On the Corner
by scarlettshazam
Summary: In their senior year of high school, Edd still wants to focus on keeping his grades in order - everything else can wait. But when Kevin needs something from him, they make a deal. This arrangement can only end in tears. KevEdd.
1. Sticks and Stones

**Chapter Track: Paper Planes – M.I.A.**

**TW: Occasional use of homophobic slurs. Please note that these _do not _reflect my own views.**

To be fair, Double D isn't paying the slightest bit of attention. A game of Sudoku on his phone is the pressing concern – he's so close, and on the most challenging difficulty as well. He's going to solve it in record time and –

_CRASH._

Edd sails over the street. His phone leaps from his hand and his head cracks against the sidewalk.

"Aw, Jesus," he hears, and sees two Kevins spinning over him, "Can't you fuckin' watch where you're going, dork?"

"I nearly solved my Sudoku puzzle on 'excruciating,'" Edd mumbles, and rubs absently at one eye. After the dizziness passes, he sits up. Kevin remains right in front of him, a mixture of annoyance and pity on his face. Edd adds, "I'm fine, see. I will see you in gym class this afternoon." He waves, and looks back to his phone, which is in the middle of the street.

"Wait," Kevin says. He slides his backpack off his shoulders and pulls a small plastic box out of the front pocket. A red plus is emblazoned on the front – a first aid kit. He pops it open and grabs a couple of Band-Aids. He throws them at Edd and says, "You fucked up your elbows, asshole."

And without another word, Kevin zips his backpack, replaces it on his shoulders, mounts his bicycle, and pedals off toward the school. Edd stares at the paper packages in his lap for a moment before he decides to open one. Kevin was correct – the fall broke the skin over his elbows, and they sting, blood seeping down his arms.

He shifts and opens his messenger bag, removing a couple of sanitary wipes that he keeps on his person just in case. Edd grits his teeth against the sting and opens a bandage.

Hm. Clearly these did not come with the first aid kit in the beginning, as they're embellished with Batman mid-flight. Nonetheless, he peels off the protective backing and smooths it over his elbow – then repeats the entire process with his other elbow.

After he retrieves his cellphone from the middle of the road (the screen is cracked in _yet another_ place, but he's used to that), Edd walks the rest of the way to school. Fortunately he always leaves earlier than necessary (one never knows what could happen on the way to school, as exampled by the incident a few minutes ago), and makes it to his locker with enough time to get to his AP Psychology class with five minutes to spare.

His AP classes are his most pleasant classes, free from his friends. He loves them dearly, but they're loud and sometimes taxing. His academics take his mind off lingering problems in his mind, like his parents being absent for an entire week now, or how magnetic Kevin seemed in his football letterman jacket, with his hair mussed from riding against the wind on his bicycle.

Yeah, focusing his mind elsewhere is without a doubt the most beneficial option available to him.

To Edd's good fortune, the wounds on his elbows don't inhibit his ability to complete schoolwork, and he makes it through his classes without a hitch. At lunchtime, Edd can hear Eddy speaking but he doesn't listen, and Eddy demands, "Are you fucking listening to me, man?"

Edd replies, "Not precisely, no."

"Well then, listen. I'm telling you, I've got the greatest idea, and this isn't like last time. It'll get us the big bucks, let me tell you," Eddy goes on.

It's there that Edd stops listening again, but he still nods when it's appropriate and gives pensive sounds of agreement when Eddy pauses for breath. By the end of lunch period, Edd has hardly eaten anything, but finds himself not hungry. Maybe he'll have a stomach ache by the time that physical education rolls around. There is nothing that he loathes more than that class – absolutely nothing. He's the tallest person in the class, but the gawkiest and weakest and least graceful. He all the athletic talent of a newborn giraffe, if even that.

But alas, as he shuffles into the locker room, he's at peak condition, bereft of any usable excuse to get out of gym class.

Edd twists his combination into his gym locker and removes his neatly folded uniform before he hangs his messenger bag inside. He never undresses in front of the other guys. It has little to do with nudity, he attempted to explain to Eddy once. He dislikes his physique. His skin is pallid, his face and back speckled with acne. He's skinny enough that his ribs show against his skin, and regardless of how many calories he consumes he fails to put on weight.

He swaps out his clothing in a stall, and waits a few minutes alone before he ventures out. Most of the other students have exited to the gymnasium, though a handful of stragglers remain. Kevin bursts in late and tosses his backpack into his locker. He removes his jacket and shirt in a single, fluid movement.

Edd stares.

He stares a lot, actually. It's a little hard not to. Kevin's skin is tan (sunburned in places) from time in the sun. Freckles darken his shoulders and across his nose. Edd watches the muscles shift under Kevin's skin, his shoulders rolling as he undoes the fly of his jeans and strips them off, tossing them haphazardly beside his backpack in his locker.

He bends over to pull his gym shorts on. Edd's breath catches slightly in his throat. His eyes follow the movement of Kevin's body as he slips on his shirt.

And then Kevin turns around.

Oh…shit.

Kevin catches Edd's eyes and his brows sweep together. He straightens, and with one eyebrow cocked he swaggers to where Edd stands. Though Kevin is not quite as tall as Edd, he's still intimidating.

"You got a problem?" Kevin asks. He's so close that Edd can smell his breath.

"Have you been smoking cigarettes?" Edd squeaks, "That seems unwise for a football player."

"Yeah?" Kevin asks, "I don't think it's any of your damn business. I asked you a question, dickhead. You got a problem?"

Yes, Edd does have a problem. He is, against his will and better judgment, sexually attracted to Kevin.

But he replies, "Not at all."

Kevin leans in a little closer. His lips are only a half-inch from Edd's, his breath warm against Edd's skin, and his gray-green eyes boring right into him. Kevin pushes Edd back against the restroom door and grunts, "Then how about keeping your eyes off my ass, huh?"

Edd shrinks back, at a loss for words. He manages, "Sorry."

But Kevin doesn't drop it.

"You like boys?" Kevin's voice hisses out lowly.

"N-No," Edd lies, but his cheeks flush and he's awful at being dishonest.

Kevin shoves Edd into the door and backs off, but the damage is done. Kevin may not be an AP scholar, but he isn't exactly _stupid_, either. Kevin is intelligent in a way that Edd isn't, as much as he's loath to admit such a thing. Kevin knows people.

And now Kevin knows that Edd likes boys.

Edd tries not to panic as he exits to the gymnasium, where several volleyball nets are set up and teams have divided already. The gym teacher gives Edd a knowing look, and points him to a net at the end. Edd knows that wherever he's placed that he's doomed to failure, but he has to at least _try. _If he doesn't pass physical education, then he won't graduate with the proper amount of credits. Sure, he knows it's his senior year of high school and that many of his peers aren't nearly as worried as he is, but he doesn't want to stray from perfection…as difficult as it may be in this case.

The game begins, and Edd artfully keeps away from the ball as much as possible.

Which would have worked out beautifully, had another volleyball not come hurdling at him from another direction entirely. It strikes him in the head and he goes down. He lands with his hands and knees on the hard floor.

"Watch your head, faggot!"

Kevin and his friends are laughing as Edd climbs back to his feet. He lets out a little breath and picks up the volleyball. His knees are wobbly and his resolve is shot, so he rolls it back to them and turns away.

This class cannot end soon enough. He'll go home, he'll make himself a cup of tea, he'll feed his ants and mice, and he'll settle down to do his homework. Perhaps he'll have time to read more of his book, and then he can go to sleep and forget this awful day.

But his heart seems to clench up in his chest. When the team on the opposite side of the net sends the ball their way, it heads at him. He tries to bounce it back, but it hits him and he's flung backward for the second time.

The gym teacher blows her whistle and gestures for Edd to come over.

"Having a rough day, kid?" she says.

"It's been challenging," he replies.

She glances over him and says, "Look, why don't you head to the nurse's office and get yourself checked out? I'll excuse you for the rest of the period."

"I appreciate that," Edd sighs.

He changes in the restroom despite the fact that nobody else is in the locker room. In the bathroom mirror, he sees that his eye is beginning to swell and bruise. Within no time, he'll be sporting a massive black eye. At least his nose isn't broken, although that has happened before – leaving him with a slightly crooked nose that's a little too big for his face.

Edd exhales all the breath in his lungs and gathers his belongings. He doesn't go to the school nurse – he trusts his own knowledge more than he trusts hers, frankly.

He puts his headphones over his ears before he begins his walk home. He drones out the rest of the world with the beat of the song, pretending that today didn't happen, that he's turned back time, that nothing went as it truly did. But still, above his music he still feels that awful, sinking feeling low in his stomach and high in his heart.

Edd arrives home to no sticky notes from his parents. They've been out – he doesn't know where, really – and though he appreciates the peace, he can't help the sense of loneliness that settles over him as he arranges his shoes neatly on the rack by the front door. He hangs up his schoolbag and pads into the kitchen, where he turns on the stove and puts the tea kettle on. Surely, a cup of oolong will give him some peace of mind.

But it doesn't. Edd's brain is so scattered that he can't bring himself to start on his essay for AP lit, and instead he sits outside on his back porch, rocking back and forth on the swing, and taking slow sips from his china teacup. He doesn't even hear his fence swing open, or notice that somebody's joined him until Ed is next to him on the swing, making the metal frame creak under his weight.

"Are you okay, Double D?" he asks slowly. Ed isn't the most brilliant of creatures, to be sure, but he is a good friend.

"Not precisely," Edd responds, "It was a trying day."

"At least you didn't get eaten by a monster," Ed tells him, "Then you'd be dead."

"At least," Edd agrees.

"Does your eye hurt?"

"It's a little tender."

"I could bring you some ice," Ed offers.

Edd manages a smile and shakes his head, "That's all right. I'll be fine on my own, Ed. Would you mind leaving me alone for now?"

"Okay," Ed complies, "But…if you need me. Text me. We could watch Superman." He stands and hops from the back porch.

Edd waits until he hears the creak of the fence closing before he exhales again. He finishes the last sip of tea, drags his feet back inside, and prepares to finish his homework. He changes into comfortable flannel pajama pants, a gray cotton t-shirt and his bunny slippers before he settles down at his desk and opens his laptop.

Analyzing the ins and outs of The Color Purple is far simpler than focusing on boys, anyway. He should understand other boys, being one, he sometimes thinks, but he hardly understands _any_ variety of people, let alone the fellow members of his own gender. Even Ed and Eddy are difficult to diagnose.

Though English isn't his best subject when compared to his excellence in the maths and sciences, he's got the system down to a pat, and can produce a well-written essay in an hour and a half if he disconnects his internet (which he has).

Through the window, the sun begins to set, turning his bedroom a soft salmon-pink, and then orange, and then dim purple-blue as he adds the final touches on his essay. It isn't due until next week, but all his other homework tasks are completed…leaving him little to do to keep himself occupied.

He reads a chapter of _The Disappearing Spoon_, and writes an entry in his journal, and straightens all the framed specimens on his walls. When at last he's left himself nothing else to do, he repositions himself in front of his laptop again. He places his headphones over his ears and opens the music program he paid a solid amount of money for –

But doesn't start mixing, because he hears something _clunk_ against his window. Edd shifts his headphones down to his neck and unplugs them from his computer.

In his front lawn stands Kevin.

"What in Sam Hill?" he mutters, and opens the window to whisper harshly, "Leave me alone!"

"C'mon, let me in, dickhead, I just want to like – say I'm sorry, or something, okay?"

Edd scowls and replies, "Only if you stop calling me names."

"Fine, dude, just let me in, okay?"

Edd closes his window with a long, world-weary sigh. He takes his hat off of the hook by the door and pulls it far over his head. He doesn't wear it nearly as much as he used to in junior high school, but from time to time he still uses it as a security blanket. If there's ever been a need for a security blanket, it's today.

He steps down the stairs, taking it one stair at a time, in case he changes his mind and wants Kevin to go away.

Well, he _does_ want Kevin to go away, but he also wants Kevin to come in – it's a dilemma, to be sure, and he doesn't like it one bit. His heart races underneath his ribs, and his breath is short by the time he reaches the front door. He opens it with unsteady hands.

"Took you long enough, Double Dork," Kevin says.

"What did I say about calling me names?" Edd snips. His patience for this day has waned, and now he's nothing but angry.

"Fine. Yeah. Sorry," Kevin says.

"Apology accepted," Edd returns stiffly, "Have a nice night." He makes to close the door, but Kevin sticks his foot out in between the front door and the frame, jamming one huge work boot inside the house. Edd has no upper body strength to speak of, and so when he tries to herd Kevin out, it's not surprise that Kevin busts in.

"You put your hat on," he mentions, and closes the front door behind him.

"Astute observation," Edd acidly replies, "Honestly, I am in no mood to deal with your – your – shenanigans right now, so please, could you just leave?"

Kevin folds his arms, "Shenanigans?"

"That means –"

"I know what it means," Kevin interrupts. He stares at Edd, hard. It's not as intimidating now as it is infuriating. Kevin adds, "Sorry about your black eye."

"That wasn't your volleyball," Edd says.

Silence hangs in the air between them. Edd would like nothing more than to have his headphones over his hears and music blaring. He wants to drown out this awful day, but Kevin doesn't seem inclined to leave.

Oh well. Let him stay. Edd has things he wants to do.

Edd turns on his heel and makes toward the stairs.

Kevin's arm shoots out and grabs Edd's wrist, tightening like a vice around it. Kevin's hands are rough, his palm calloused. The sensation sends a shiver down Edd's spine. He struggles against Kevin's grip and turns around to glare, "Release me. This. _Instant._"

As Kevin seems inclined to do exactly the opposite of each of Edd's demands, he instead yanks Edd forward. They're close, almost as close as they got in the locker room.

And then…they're even closer. Kevin pulls Edd up against him and covers Edd's mouth with his own. He reeks like cigarettes and Tic-Tacs and expensive cologne. For a mere moment, Edd wants to melt into the kiss. He's had kisses before, but nothing quite like this one – but wait. This is the same boy that referred to him as that…that _slur_ in the gymnasium.

Edd wrenches himself from Kevin's grip and says, "How dare you?"

"I –" begins Kevin.

But no. No, this cannot be allowed. Edd says, "Quiet! You – you have some nerve, really, you do. Is this your idea of a joke? All right, I'm attracted to boys, and I thought you and your idiot friends found that unacceptable. You threw things at me and called me names and then you – you do this? Are you serious? You've been releasing all your frustration with your own sexuality on _me_? I know who I am. I know what I like and I've come to terms with that. I understand it's not as easy as that for others, but confusion is not a reasonable excuse to inflict pain on other people."

Edd inhales. His whole face is red. He can feel the heat of the blood in his cheeks. He hasn't shouted at somebody like that in ages, but he's furious.

Kevin says, "I'm sorry, I just thought –"

"You just thought what, precisely? That I'm such a wallflower that I'd accept any brand of attention from just anybody? I have news for you, Kevin. You may be attractive and you may be charismatic, but those traits are not enough to make up for cruelty and childishness," Edd shakes with anger, "Leave me alone." He can't stand another instant here. He rushes to the stairs and climbs up, making his way to his bedroom. He'll lock himself in and then Kevin will have to leave.

Naturally, this is not how it goes. Kevin follows Edd and pushes his bedroom door open.

"Will you let me get a word in? Jesus," Kevin runs a hand through his hair and says, "Seriously, Double D, I'm sorry."

"Don't call me Double D," Edd says, "That's what my friends call me, and you are most definitely not that."

"Okay, okay," Kevin holds his hands up in defense, "Look, you're really smart, okay? I don't…like, know what's going on with me." He rubs his temples and drags his hands down his face, looking abruptly less scary and much sadder, instead. He goes on, "I didn't – I still don't know what I'm supposed to do, you know? I mean, I like girls, right? But then I see guys like you and it's the same deal."

"'Guys like me'?" echoes Edd, "Are you blind?" Certainly, he isn't the worst that the planet has to offer, but even optimistically he couldn't be called attractive.

"You, um, you're cute, or something," Kevin mutters. He doesn't look Edd in the eye, and instead fixes his eyes on the carpet.

"What are you talking about?" Edd manages.

"I dunno, dude, I kinda like you, or something," Kevin says, "Like, I notice when you look at me, you know? I thought I was making it up, and I thought today maybe I wasn't, and then I freaked and…did what I did, okay?"

"And what, precisely, do you want me to do about this?"

Kevin is pink in the face. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead. He says, "Help? Maybe?"

"Help you with what? Be homosexual? Because that's fairly easy, as you're already on top of that," Edd says.

"No, dipshit. Like, help me, I dunno. Not hate this part of myself, or whatever," Kevin explains, "Please, man, I'm desperate. I don't know how to fucking handle this, and I can't like, drink the gay out of me. I've tried. I can't make it go away."

Edd scratches the back of his neck and says, "Tell me if I'm interpreting this correctly. You want me, out of the goodness of my heart, to help you learn to be comfortable with an attraction to men."

"Yeah," Kevin says lamely, "Like kissing and shit, I dunno."

"In essence, you're requesting that I be your _booty call_," Edd says.

Kevin licks his lips, and, after a long second, nods. He says, "I guess. If you want to call it that."

Edd exhales through his nostrils and agrees, "…Very well. But, I want to make this clear: We are not friends. I don't like you, and I know you don't like me. We're not to be seen together whatsoever, and this arrangement is only to be carried out after school hours, when I have completed my homework. If I want to terminate the arrangement, I will. You have that power, too," he pauses, "And never wear your shoes in my bedroom ever again. Is it a deal?"

"Deal," Kevin says, and holds out his hand.

Edd takes it, and shakes.

**xxx**

**Hey all, this is indeed a KevEdd chapter fic. (If you're a SP reader I'm sorry to disappoint) This is a huge experiment! Feel free to leave thoughts if you have them. **


	2. Got Nothin' But Time

**Chapter Track: Good Ol' Fashion Nightmare – Matt & Kim**

Edd's phone goes off beside him. A text from Kevin flashes across the screen.

_Another _text, to be more accurate. Edd's been ignoring him for the better part of an hour, trying to get his AP Music Theory homework finished before he bothers to reply. It's been two days since Kevin forced his way into Edd's house and kissed him, subsequently proposing that they have a _thing_ in the meantime.

With a sigh, Edd leans back into his chair and opens his phone.

_can u hang tonite_

_answer me dork_

_i can fuckin see u thru ur window quit ignoring me bitch_

Edd rolls his eyes and sets his phone aside. He stands and stares out his window at Kevin's house. Though he doesn't see Kevin, he knows that somehow, Kevin can see him. So he opens his window, sticks his middle finger out of it, and closes the window again before flipping his shutters closed.

His phone vibrates again. Edd picks it up – call it morbid curiosity.

_ur pissin me off _

Edd types out a quick response.

_As soon as you stop calling me names, I will consider it. _

A few minutes pass, long enough that Edd can finish what he has up on his laptop and exit out of the program. He stands and stretches, popping his neck. Instead of his phone going off another time when he slides his feet into his slippers, the doorbell rings.

On his stoop stands Kevin, of course, when he opens the door. It's a brisk night, and he wears a leather jacket to stave off the cold. Edd ushers him in and closes the door, leaning against it with a sigh.

Kevin runs his fingers through his hair and asks, "So uh, how do you wanna do this thing?"

"Please take off your shoes and put them here," Edd says and gestures to the rack by the door, "I'll take your coat." Kevin shrugs off the leather jacket and hands it to Edd, who hangs it in the front room closet.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" asks Edd, "We have oolong, Earl Grey, English Breakfast, some herbal blends…"

"I'm good, but thanks," Kevin says, and holds up a hand.

"All right," Edd says, "I suppose we'd better go upstairs, then." He's nervous, like he knew he would be, but at least the nerves are combined with a streak of anger at Kevin's constant pestering and his infuriatingly handsome face – although the expression on that face is less than encouraging.

"I told you that you could end our arrangement if you wanted," Edd says, and lifts a brow at him.

Kevin gives a shaky laugh, "Nah, I want to do this thing, I've just never done anything like this before? So I'm nervous I guess."

"You've already done the beginning part," Edd tells him. He opens his bedroom door and bids Kevin come in as soon as he's surveyed him to see if his socks are clean enough to walk on the white carpet, "You know, the kissing part."

Kevin isn't paying attention to him, though. He's staring at Edd's shelf of jarred specimens. He points to Edd's favorite, the biggest jar on the shelf. Kevin turns, brows raised, "The fuck is that, Edd?"

"A cycloptic piglet in a jar," Edd answers, "And before you ask, that one's a bat, that one's a rhinoceros beetle and that's a double-bodied chicken."

"Sick," Kevin says, in such a tone that Edd doesn't know if he's fascinated or disgusted, or perhaps a bit of both.

"If you insult my pig, I'm not going to let you kiss me," Edd says, and crosses his arms, "Her name is Daffodil."

"I was gonna say she's cool, but okay," Kevin shrugs, "I mean, really fucking weird, but cool."

For one reason or another, the cycloptic piglet in a jar seems to have diffused the tension between them. Kevin takes a single step forward and reaches out to touch his fingertips to Edd's arm, urging him a little closer. Edd follows. Kevin smells like cigarettes again, but like breath mints and that cologne again. It's nice.

Nice enough that Edd leans the short distance down to Kevin's lips, presses their mouths to each other. Kevin is still against him for a long moment, limbs awkward and touch scared. When he pulls back, he says, "That wasn't so bad."

Edd agrees, "It was all right."

"All right?" Kevin scowls, "I'm a great kisser."

"Do women tell you that because you're handsome, or because there's actual truth to it?" asks Edd. It isn't that Kevin is a _bad_ kisser, per se, just that he could use some practice. Edd hasn't kissed too many people, but he's kissed enough to know what a good kiss is.

The frown on Kevin's face deepens as he considers this. He says, "I dunno, man. What am I doing wrong?"

"From my experience," Edd begins, "You've either been forceful, or unresponsive. Of course, this is based upon a mere two kisses, which is hardly enough data to –"

Kevin swoops forward and smashes their lips together again. He pulls Edd into it, gripping him by the waist, and licks along Edd's lower lip. Edd's lips part and he lets out a soft huff of breath before allowing Kevin to press his tongue into his mouth. Edd has always been cautious about open-mouthed kissing. One never knows what it can cause – but he doesn't think of that now. He can only think of how warm Kevin's hands are, or how insistent his tongue. His senses are pushed into overdrive, and he loops his arms around Kevin's neck just so he can press their bodies closer.

When they break to breathe, Kevin demands, "That good enough for you?"

"Much better," Edd agrees.

Kevin threads his fingers through his hair and remarks, "Man, I just kissed a dude."

"You're a regular Sherlock, aren't you?" Edd wryly asks.

Kevin elbows him. His face turns a little pink and he says, "Fuck off, Double Dork."

"Your originality in name-calling never ceases to amaze," Edd comments, "Is that all? You look a little green."

"Yeah, I think – um, I guess that's good for now," Kevin says.

"All right," Edd opens his bedroom door and waves Kevin out, "If that's all, have a nice night, Kevin. I'm certain I'll see you tomorrow in gym class."

"Wait," Kevin says, "Do you wanna like, chill or something?"

"We're not friends," Edd reminds him, "I told you that before. We don't 'chill' or 'hang out.' I agreed to assist you in becoming comfortable with your dual sexuality, not in 'chilling.'"

"Okay, Christ, I'll go," Kevin says.

They walk together downstairs, where Kevin replaces his work boots on his feet, and Edd retrieves his leather jacket from the closet. A moment of awkward silence passes in which they both stare at each other. Kevin is still red in the face, emphasizing the smattering of freckles on his nose and apples of his cheeks. It would be endearing if the freckles weren't on a face that belonged to an obnoxious, closeted bully.

"Why don't you go out the back?" Edd suggests, breaking the quiet, "Just in case."

"Good thinking," Kevin says.

At the back door, Kevin pauses, as though meaning to say something. But he doesn't – he steps outside, gives a half-hearted wave, and jogs out into Edd's backyard. Edd listens for the creak of the gate swinging shut and closes the sliding glass door. He locks it behind him, closes the curtain, and settles down to read – putting the night's events out of sight and out of mind.

**xxx**

Kevin crosses Double D's backyard and then the street. He makes a pointed effort to avoid the street lamps, walking instead across front lawns in the dark. He slips into his house. His dad is on the couch in the living room, a Coors in his hand and the TV on in the dark, some reality show with the contestants yelling at each other.

Kevin slinks to the fridge and pulls out a beer of his own, lifting it so his dad can see, and asks, "Can I have one of these?"

"Go for it, kid," his dad says, and takes a sip from the can in his grip.

Kevin takes the beer up to his bedroom, where he sinks into his desk chair with a long exhale.

"What am I doing?" he mutters, but he doesn't know the answer.

But then, maybe this has been a long time coming. He first noticed that maybe he wasn't exactly straight years ago, at the beginning of junior high. Sometimes the way that certain boys would touch him – just a hand to the shoulder, or brushing past each other on the way to class – would make him feel the exact same way certain girls would. His throat would get itchy and his body would tingle. Except with boys, he felt bad about it. He didn't like it, because he knew other people didn't like it.

Double D isn't like that. He doesn't give a shit if other people like him. Maybe that's why Kevin doesn't mind him so much – and likes him, just a little. Because he sure as hell can't do what Edd can. Edd wears his weirdness as a badge of honor, and Kevin…Kevin can't stand the things about him that might make people not like him. He's an image person, and he doesn't like that he is. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't put the importance of being liked out of his head.

He thinks some of his friends would be fine. Maybe. Nazz wouldn't care, he knows. Nazz is good people, though. He can't count on that with the guys on the football team, or his baseball friends, or even the friends he's collected at biking competitions over the years. He cares about his friends, but he knows they're not comfortable with dudes that like dudes.

God, what _is_ he doing?

Edd…is not who he expected to be doing this with, at least not the person he would have thought of when Kevin first noticed that he might be into guys. Edd is awkward and uses big words that he can't understand, and has a fucking piglet in a jar in his room that he named Daffodil.

Kevin cracks open the beer and takes a sip before standing. He crosses his room to his window, and peeks out from behind his metal blinds. Edd still has his shutters closed. Figures. He probably shouldn't have said anything about being able to see Edd through his window.

That dude. How can somebody be so damn smart and so oblivious at the same time? Double D has had his shutters open for like months now, and Kevin has watched him dress and undress on more than one occasion.

Kinda creepy, but he takes what he can get.

Of course, now he has this thing they're doing.

Man, that was a nice kiss. Kevin doesn't tend to linger on kisses. He's always been a fan of getting to the good stuff, but boys make him more nervous than girls ever have. He's not afraid of doing something wrong with girls, and never really has been – even when he lost his virginity, he was pretty sure he was doing okay, considering the circumstances.

But this is different. He doesn't know why. It shouldn't be different, probably. But it is. Edd is smart and weird and has a nice smile when it can be teased out of him. The dude doesn't smile a lot.

And why doesn't Edd want to be friends with him, huh? What's up with that? People love being friends with him. Kevin knows it. He's fun to be around. He is a fun person. But Double D doesn't give a shit.

This is confusing.

Kevin finishes off his beer before shedding his jacket onto the floor, and kicking his boots off to the side of his room, where they hit his wall with a _clunk clunk. _He crosses the hall to the bathroom and strips down.

For a second, he glances at himself in the mirror. He's a decent-looking dude. This isn't a raw deal for Edd. Sure, he's got these stupid freckles and a collection of scars from various sports-related injuries (and times he should have gotten stitches but didn't), but he's pretty easy on the eyes.

If Kevin were another guy that liked guys, he'd be over the damn moon about being friends with him. But Double D doesn't care, and that pisses him off.

Kevin steps into the shower and turns it on, wincing at the initial blast of cold before the water warms up. He lathers up and leans against the tile for a second. The suds slip down his arms, over tan skin and down his abs, whose definition he is just a little proud of.

He wonders what Edd looks like in the shower. That kid is so secretive about what's under his clothes, and Kevin can't say that he gets it. Edd's a good-looking dude. Kevin wouldn't be inclined to kiss if he wasn't. And sure, Kevin's seen some of the merchandise through Edd's window when Edd didn't know anybody was looking, but never anything close up. As far as Kevin can tell, he's lean and sort of pretty-looking. And he might have a nice ass, but Kevin only got one distant flash, one time.

Goddamnit.

He's hard now, thinking like that. That's what he gets for getting carried away.

Kevin gnaws on his lip. When the copper taste of blood touches his tongue, he makes an executive decision to give in and take care of the thing. He wraps his hand around himself and leans into his touch. He makes sure to be quiet, but he thinks of Edd. He's kind of been doing that a lot lately. He thinks of them both, actually. He thinks of Edd's bed, and them being in it. He thinks of Edd completely naked underneath him. They're not doing anything but kissing, really. But Edd tastes good.

Edd tasted good back in his bedroom. He tasted clean, and like mouthwash. But there was something else about the way he tasted, something just _so good. _

Kevin's mind drifts, and he imagines that it's not his hand on his cock, but Edd's. Yeah. That's nice.

In only a handful of minutes, he comes onto the shower wall with a sharp intake of breath.

The shower was supposed to get his mind off everything, but now he's just stuck on it.

Kevin cleans his come off the tile and rinses himself off. He shuts down the water and steps out onto the bath mat, where he towels himself dry. His skin is pink from the hot water, and his face red from what he'd done in it.

He doesn't bother with homework when he returns to his room. He slides boxers onto his hips and collapses onto his bed. Exhaustion settles in. He worked too hard at practice today, and his limbs are heavy and sore. But his mind is exhausted, and so are his insides. He's been thinking and feeling too many things and it would be a relief to just –

Fall asleep.

**xxx**

The alarm clock screams Kevin awake at six in the morning. He slams his hand down on it and rolls onto his back with a loud groan. He rubs the crust off of his eyes. For a few minutes, he just stares at his ceiling, tired and a little angry. He didn't sleep well, tossing and turning all night, getting up to go to the bathroom, playing Angry Birds at three in the morning until his eyes were too tired to stay open.

He's a fucking mess.

Kevin dresses in his standard t-shirt, and jeans that he wore holes in the knees of from falling off of his bike one too many times. He ties sneakers onto his feet and shucks his letterman jacket over the ensemble. In the mirror, he looks more put-together than he feels.

It's a gray day outside, and a little cold even with his jacket zipped. The trees are all red and gold and brown, and some even already bare with their leaves on the ground at their roots. Winter is gonna be here soon…Kevin is not a winter person. He likes being able to be outside in the sun, with a football or on his wheels, or with a bat in his hands.

Kevin mounts his bike and starts toward the school. Ahead of him, he sees Double D, who's focused on a book in his hands.

Kevin slows to a stop next to him and says, "Hey."

Edd glances up and frowns at Kevin like he usually does. He says, "You are remarkably terrible at following instructions."

"What? Come on," Kevin says, and lowers his voice to suggest "Let's go make out before school."

"No!" Edd exclaims, "Somebody will _see_."

"Not if we go in those trees over there," Kevin says, pointing to the entrance to the park, "C'mon."

Edd lifts a brow. Kevin thinks he's about to get shot down, but instead, Edd says, "Fine. But only for a moment."

"Sweet," Kevin says. He hops off of his bike and follows Edd through the grass and into the trees.

Edd folds his arms over his chest and says, "Well?"

Kevin licks his lips and backs Edd up against a tree. He leans into him and kisses him. It comes more easily now already. Edd tastes that same kind of nice – which makes Kevin thankful that he remembered to brush his teeth this morning. He licks into Edd's mouth and exhales through his nostrils.

Edd's hands reach out to touch his waist. He pulls Kevin forward by his belt loops, and presses their bodies together. Kevin has to break the kiss to gasp.

"Shit, dork," Kevin says, and smiles goofily at him.

Edd doesn't smile back. He lets go of Kevin and slides out from between his arms. He brushes a yellow leaf off of his t-shirt and says, "All right, that's quite enough for now, I think. I'll leave first."

And Edd leaves, just like that.

God, what is with that guy?

Kevin waits a handful of minutes before he walks his bike back out to the sidewalk and pedals to the school, where he chains the old girl up to one of the racks out front.

Once inside, he spots Nazz and gives her a one-armed hug.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks.

"Same old," she shrugs, "What's with you? You look like shit, Kev."

"Couldn't sleep for shit last night," he replies, "You got that worksheet we had to do for Jamesson? I kind of didn't do it."

Nazz rolls her eyes and pulls her backpack off her shoulders. She pulls the sheet out of a folder decorated with puppy stickers and hands over the homework they were supposed to do for Biology. She says, "Give it back before class, okay? And you owe me, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah," he says.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Edd.

He's wearing a pair of goggles on top of his head.

"How does he do that?" Kevin says out loud.

Nazz turns around, "Double D? Do what?"

"Not care," he says, "about what people think. Like, that's weird. He's got goggles on his head. But he doesn't give a shit. I don't get it."

Nazz looks back to Kevin and cocks a brow. She replies, "I dunno, but you have the opposite problem, don't you?"

"Yeah," sighs Kevin, and heads toward his locker.

**xxx**

**Thanks for all the lovely feedback! You make me want to update like crazy, I'm just having so much fun writing this. Much love to all my readers.**


	3. When You Get Me Going

**Chapter Track: On It – Mindless Self Indulgence **

Kevin's hand skirts up under Edd's shirt for the first time three weeks into their arrangement. Edd inhales and asks, "What are you doing?"

"Dunno, can I take your shirt off?" asks Kevin.

They're standing in Kevin's bedroom. Edd still isn't certain that he likes it in here. Clothes litter the floor, the trash can in the corner is full to overflowing, posters of professional bikers and women in bikinis plaster the wall, and there's a fish tank in the corner that looks like it could use some cleaning.

"Uhh," Edd says, letting all the air out of his lungs, "I will make you a deal. You may take my shirt off – _if_ you will allow me to clean your fish tank when we are done. It's filthy."

Kevin glances at the tank, "So? The fish are fine. My goldfish is like a million years old."

"If your fish were truly one million years old, that would be quite impressive," Edd says, "But I suspect you're using a euphemism to convey that your fish is old."

Kevin rolls his eyes, "Yeah, okay. I guess you can clean the tank or whatever. Can I take your shirt off now?"

Edd swallows the knot in his throat and nods. He promised Kevin that he would help him, and so of course this must have been inevitable from the start. Nonetheless, he doesn't like being without his shirt, and as soon as Kevin lifts the cotton t-shirt over Edd's head, he feels horribly exposed, and wraps his arms around himself.

"You cold or something?" asks Kevin.

"Ah – no," answers Edd, "I'm unused to – that is to say, I tend to prefer to remain clothed as much as possible. I'm not…like you."

"Like me," echoes Kevin, "Like me what?"

Edd coughs and mutters, "Attractive."

Kevin makes a face but doesn't say anything. Instead, he wraps his hands around Edd's wrists and moves his arms to his sides. He looks Edd up and down but doesn't speak. It's one of the most excruciating experiences of Edd's seventeen years of life, and he has to clench his hands into fists to keep himself from doing anything untoward.

Kevin reaches out, then, and strokes the pad of his thumb over Edd's collar bone. He says, "I actually have no idea what you're talking about, dude." He leans into Edd and pushes a ginger kiss to his neck. A shiver runs down Edd's spine, and he makes a soft noise when Kevin tries it again.

"You okay?" asks Kevin.

"Fine, fine," Edd mumbles, "That just feels very nice, is all."

"Cool, I'll keep doing it, then," Kevin says. Edd feels a blush rise high in his cheeks. Kevin smirks as he lowers his mouth again, kissing along Edd's skin. His tongue skates across Edd's throat and he scrapes his teeth there, too.

In his jeans, Edd can feel the first stirrings of an erection.

Kevin pulls away and grins. He says, "Here, let me show you." He backs up a step and pulls his own shirt over his head. As usual, everything underneath looks too good to be true.

"We all got imperfections, dork," Kevin says, and grabs Edd's wrist. He places Edd's hand on a thick pink scar just above his abdomen and says, "See. I got that from falling off my bike. I cut myself super bad on a rock and shoulda got stitches, but I didn't so it looks like that." He moves Edd's hand down to about a centimeter above the elastic waistband of his boxers, to a dark brown splotch on his skin, "That's my birthmark. You can't see all of it but it's like, all over the top of my leg and shit. It's gruesome. And this," he directs Ed's hand to his side, close to his underarm, "Is some weird-ass mole. And I got all these freckles and stuff and this burn on my hand from the time I touched a hot stove, and this one's from nicking myself with a pocketknife – see?"

"I understand what you're saying," Edd gradually replies, "Though I'm inclined to disagree with you."

Kevin makes another face and says, "Shut up." He catches Edd's lips in his. It doesn't take long for him to fall into it. He snakes his arms around Kevin's neck and their bare chests press together. There's something in him that's itchy and too hot and feels like it can't be contained. It makes him tug on Kevin's ginger hair and crush their bodies together.

Kevin groans into Edd's mouth, and doesn't stop him when he pushes Kevin back onto his bed, which is covered by Batman sheets.

"You like Batman," Edd observes.

"Yeah," Kevin half-smiles, "He's my favorite."

Only then does Edd realize that he is sitting aside Kevin, half-naked, and hard inside his jeans. If he could turn pinker, he would. He clears his throat and says, "I, um, I-I'm sorry about my er, arousal."

Kevin blushes then, too, and looks down, "Dude, it's cool. I'm in the same boat." He laughs. Kevin does that a lot – laugh. He does it when he's uncomfortable, and he makes jokes, then, too.

Edd lifts off of Kevin and says, "You know, you laugh a certain way when you're in a situation you don't want to be in."

Kevin sits up and runs a hand through his hair, "I do?"

Edd nods.

After a beat of silence, Edd plucks Kevin's shirt off of his bedroom floor and hands it to him, before he retrieves his own and shimmies back into it. Kevin shows him where he keeps his fishes' things – all a little dusty, save for the food canister.

Kevin lies back on his bed and watches as Edd goes through the motions of relocating the fish while he cleans the tank. He remarks, "You should really get a filter for the tank. It would do your fish a world of good."

"Prolly," says Kevin, uninterested.

"Do they have names?" asks Edd, curious.

"The goldfish is Thomas," says Kevin, "You know, as in Thomas the Tank Engine?" When Edd gives him a blank stare, he adds, "I told you he was old. And the little blue guy is Dude. And uh, the silver dudes are Beavis and Butthead."

"Classy."

"I do my best," Kevin replies.

When Edd is finished, the tank looks much prettier – free of fish debris and equipped with a new serving of food for the fish to enjoy. He is a little proud of the job, and decides that this evening was an evening well-spent.

"Hey, uh, I was wondering," Kevin says, as he leads Edd to the door, past where Kevin's dad is asleep on their couch in front of the flashing television, snoring like a piece of rusty machinery.

"Yes?"

"You free on Saturday or anything? 'Cause maybe I could get better with the whole, uh, boner thing," Kevin utters the words _boner thing_ in a hushed voice, like he's telling a terrible secret to somebody. Edd wonders if he's trying to be even more quiet than usual because his dad is within earshot, though not awake.

But alas, Edd seldom is available on Saturdays. Aside from homework and his regular goofing around with Ed and Eddy, he has shows on Saturday nights. Nobody knows about them, not even Ed. Edd likes it that way. He likes that no one knows him when he's onstage. It used to be that he would have terrible stage fright in any setting – but being a musician of sorts is different.

Mainly, he thinks, because of his costume.

But also because he uses Daffodil as a prop (and a few other choice specimens, too).

Edd mixes music. He likes beats. He likes how unique a series of beats can sound from another, and he likes how they make people move. And when he performs his own compositions, he is no longer Edd, Eddward, or Double D. He's his alternate persona.

He's _Mad Scientist._

It started as an experiment. He got a trial program and played with music on his computer when he was a mere fourteen. But experimentation grew to enjoyment, enjoyment evolved into obsession, and obsession become _part of him_, but another entity, all at once. Mad Scientist.

Mad Scientist wears a lab coat circa 1932 that he found in a flea market. He has a pair of goggles and a surgical mask that hide his face and make him look insane, especially in the right tones of red and green lighting.

Mad Scientist is the part of him that's possibly the most _him_, maybe because he doesn't have to be anybody but himself when he's Mad Scientist. He doesn't have to be supportive and inventive for Ed and Eddy, or intelligent and constantly correct for his teachers and future, or willing and able and ready for Kevin.

He's just…himself.

"I can't," Edd says, and Kevin frowns a little before he masks it with a half-smile.

"That's cool," he replies, "I was just askin'. See you later, dork."

"Au revoir, Kevin," says Edd.

**xxx**

Friday, after school ends, Kevin heads to the locker room to prep for the football game. Most of the guys are already there by the time he arrives. He's greeted by a few "hey"s and one snapping towel that gets dangerously close to his ass before he laughs it off and moves just out of reach.

"Where've you been, dude?" asks his teammate closest to his own locker, Benny.

"What are you talking about? I'm right here, fuckface," Kevin answers, and strips down to his shorts to put on his pads.

"I mean like, you weren't at Nazz's thing the other night, and you haven't been around after games or practice, dude," Benny replies, "Like the pizza thing, or when we got trashed at Erik's. You were gone. What the hell?"

It is the worst possible time for Kevin's body to have a stupid reflex, which naturally means his body goes for it. He feels his face turn red, and he glances at the floor, hoping to avoid further questioning.

"You're fucking with me," Benny says.

"What?" Kevin mutters.

"You gotta new girl? Who is she, dude? She cute? C'mon, spill," Benny elbows Kevin, "Come on, man. S'it Annie?"

"No, it's not Annie," Kevin says.

"Then who?"

"She – uh, she's from out of town," Kevin says, "Like forty-five minutes west, okay? Her name's, uh, Ed…ith. Edith."

"Edith?" Benny laughs, "Sounds like a seventy-year-old."

"Yeah, well, fuck you, 'cause she's hot," Kevin says, "She's real tall, but like, small around the middle, and she always wears chapstick and tastes nice."

"All right, all right," Benny says, "Your Edith's safe with me. Better get a move on, though, champ, you're a bit behind." Benny, fully dressed, claps Kevin on the shoulder and jogs out of the locker room, following the crowd of other football players.

Kevin scurries to dress in the rest of his uniform and slides his helmet onto his head. His coach shouts something at him about being on the practice field later than the other guys, and has him do a couple extra stretches before he joins the others. He goes through the motions – Kevin loves football, don't get him wrong – but his head isn't in it today. He's mad that he lied to Benny. He doesn't want to lie to Benny. He doesn't want to lie to anybody, really, but right now he's lying to everybody.

Everybody except Double D.

And he wants to tell his friends. He wants to ask them what to do or if they've ever been nervous as hell around another person because they're way smarter than you are and look good without their shirt on and have a cycloptic piglet in a jar named Daffodil and cleaned out your fish tank for you. He wants to be able to ask somebody how to tell somebody that doesn't like the way they look 'cause they're a little paler and skinnier than most that he _likes_ skinny, pale guys and likes Edd's fucked-up, knobbly hands with dry skin and his bony shoulders and his huge-ass vocabulary.

"Kevin!"

Kevin glances up.

"What is with you, boy? If you're gonna be like this on the field, I can't have you playing out there today," his coach shouts, "Get your head in the game. I mean it."

"Sorry, coach," he says.

Kevin works his way through the rest of their warm-ups, determined not to lose his focus. This is his love. He _loves_ football. He loves the grit, the smell of the grass and sweat, the shouting and running and bowling guys twice his size over into the ground. There's a satisfaction that he gets from football that he can't find anywhere else on this planet.

Except maybe he's starting to find it elsewhere, because he can't stop thinking about other shit. Not just any other shit, _boys. _And not just any boy – Edd. Double D. Easily the strangest kid in their grade, if not the entire school. He's always been the smartest and quietest.

_Stop it, _he thinks to himself, and brings himself out of his trance to the present.

Benny loops his arm around Kevin's padded shoulders and says, "You must be whipped by this Edith chick, man."

"Shut up," Kevin says back, and gives Benny a light shove as they walk toward the field.

People are already gathered in the stands – parents, students, the entire marching band – all dressed and painted to support their team. Kevin scans the crowd but, as usual, doesn't see his dad there. He does spot Nazz, though – she waves and he waves back. At least he's got somebody up there for him.

Overhead it looks like it might rain. Kevin doesn't mind a muddy game most days, but today isn't one of those. He wants it to be sunny.

The band starts playing in the stands, and within minutes Kevin is jogging out with his team to starting positions. Kevin typically plays running back, being lighter on his feet than some of the other, heavier guys on the team.

The ref blows the whistle, and then they're off. The people cheer and the band plays, but Kevin blocks it out. He catches the ball from the quarterback and makes a run for it, but gets blocked by the other team – so he throws the ball across to one of the other guys, who gets tackled.

Rain drizzles down from above, making the grass slippery and hard to navigate.

Halfway in, they're winning, but only by a small margin. Kevin scored their team's only touchdown so far. When the pigskin comes flying at him again, he catches it and makes a break for the other side. But before he can react, one of their opponents comes at him. Kevin tries to dodge him, but slips in a patch of mud.

He goes down.

Man, does he go down.

Kevin shouts when his leg twists underneath him. Was that a crack? That was definitely a crack. Somewhere behind the white noise in his brain, he hears the ref blow the whistle. His coach is right above him.

"Can you stand up?" he shouts, over the thick of the rain and the noise of the crowd.

Kevin shifts a little to test the water, and his twisted leg screams back at him to stop. He collapses back against the mud and says back, "I think it's broken. Shit. _Shit_."

"Goddamnit," his coach swears, and cups his hands to shout behind him, "I need somebody out here, stat! We gotta injury!"

Fortunately, they keep paramedics and an ambulance outside of every game, just in case. They heave him up from the ground and onto the stretcher, and carry him to the ambulance from there. Nobody rides with him – the game must go on, as always.

At least Kevin isn't afraid of hospitals – if he were, he'd have had a mental breakdown by now. He's been in Peach Creek General more times than he can count on both hands, since childhood. This isn't even the first time he's broken his left leg.

For fuck's sake.

Football season just began, and now he'll be out for his senior year. What kind of bullshit is that?

Kevin groans and rubs his temples as they wheel him into a room. The walls are stark white, though there's a generic painting of a vase of flowers on the wall. Paramedics transfer him to a bed, and before they've even left, a doctor's in. Kevin's seen this chick around before, Dr. Hansen or something.

"Kevin," she greets, "What've we got this time?"

"Leg," he says, and points.

"Oh, good Lord, child," she says – pain aside, Kevin can't help a little chuckle. She goes on, "We're gonna have to cut up that uniform to see the damage."

"Kay," he says, and looks on while a nurse with scissors makes a few smooth cuts to the left leg of his football uniform.

"Oh, that is _nasty_," he complains. His leg is swollen, and already purple bruises are sprouting. Double D would probably find it fascinating, but to be honest, Kevin is a little more than grossed out. He's injured himself plenty, but this has to be one of the ugliest wounds he's ever achieved.

"Yeah, that's a doozie," Dr. Hansen agrees, "I'm not gonna need to ask you where it hurts, 'cause it's pretty obvious just by looking that you've done it in good. We'll still need to get some x-rays of it, though, so I can see if a cast'll do or if we need to put some hardware in there. Marianne?"

Hardware? Great, just fucking great.

The nurse – Marianne – wheels Kevin's bed out through the hallway, and to a familiar room. Kevin has a fantastic collect of his x-rays stashed in one of his desk drawers. Maybe he should give them to Edd, like a present or something. Kevin knows the x-ray routine, and lets the technicians do their thing, turning his bed from one side to the other to get a full three hundred and sixty degree view of whatever he did to himself.

When it's all over, they bring him back to his room, and give him a sedative before Dr. Hansen comes back. Kevin can't read her face, and so in his goofy, sedated haze, he asks, "What's up, Doc?"

She smiles at that and says, "I've got good news, mostly. The break is clean, so we won't need to do surgery or put screws in, just a cast. It looks like the sedative is doing its job, which means I can set your leg before we put on the cast. Any color requests?"

"Red," answers Kevin, thinking of his favorite hat.

"The usual, then," Dr. Hansen smiles. She hands her clipboard back to Marianne the nurse, and touches gloved fingertips to Kevin's left leg. Sedated, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. It still hurts like _hell_ when she starts to manipulate the broken pieces back together, and Kevin groans. Tears burn in his eyes but don't come out.

It's only after Kevin's cast is freshly placed that a familiar face ducks into his hospital. It's his dad – grizzled, reddish beard, shiny bald head, stained plaid flannel and all.

"Hey, kid," he says.

"Hey, Dad," he answers back.

It's hard to read what his dad is thinking. It always is, but Kevin worries when shit like this happens, expensive things that his dad's salary at the factory doesn't always cover. It used to be easier, before his mom ran off with her boyfriend – she had a job to supplement the income, and now she only sends money on Kevin's birthday and at Christmas. Twenty dollars and a "from Mom," every time.

"They said you can go soon," his dad says, "Just gotta pay the bill and then we can head home. I brought your crutches."

"Thanks," he says, and doesn't know what else there is to say. He and his dad don't tend to talk much beyond hellos and goodbyes. It's awkward, really, which is why it's been nice to be out of the house and with Edd. Kevin doesn't have to deal with sitting next to his dad on the couch, wanting to say something, and not knowing what to say. Or how to say it.

His dad leaves briefly and brings back Kevin's crutches. He signs paperwork and Kevin wishes he had his phone to play with, or something look at that isn't his father. But he doesn't, so instead he waits awkwardly, already wanting to itch underneath his cast, though it hasn't been on his leg for more than half an hour.

Once they're signed out and in the parking lot, relief washes over Kevin. He climbs into the passenger's side of his dad's truck, and something occurs to him.

"Hey, um, are you gonna give me rides to school?" he asks.

"I work real early in the mornings, Kevin, you know that," his dad answers, "Why don't you see if one of your friends can do it?"

Kevin sinks low into the seat.

"Okay," he says, and hopes Nazz will be able to do it. The only person besides Nazz that he knows that has a car is Eddy – he shudders to think that he might need to stoop as low as asking _Eddy_ for rides to school.

When they pull into the driveway, neither Kevin nor his dad speaks. That's fine. It's probably better that way.

Their house is dark and quiet inside. At least Kevin's hurt himself enough that he knows how to navigate around on crutches. It takes some time and patience, but he can even get up the stairs to his bedroom. On his bed is his backpack, with a pink sticky note on the front of it.

_Used your spare key. Get well soon – Nazz_

Thank God for good people like Nazz, he thinks. Kevin sits on the edge of his mattress, relieved to have the pressure of the crutches out from under his arms. He shifts his backpack onto his lap and retrieves his phone, too tired to change out of his grimy, hacked-up football uniform.

And he texts Edd.

_can u come over_

Edd, as usual, takes a zillion years to respond.

_No, you come over here._

Kevin rolls his eyes and turns onto his side to stare out his window. Edd's shutters are still closed. What an asshole.

_my leg is broken_, he settles on responding.

To which Edd texts back, _That's absurd. You're just lazy._

Oh, for fuck's sake. Kevin shifts again and turns on the lamp next to his bed for better light. He snaps a quick picture of his cast (and his middle finger) and sends the picture to Edd, no caption needed. Lazy, his left nut.

Not more than thirty seconds later, a text pops up on Kevin's screen: _I'll be there in five minutes._

And, almost five minutes to the exact second, Kevin's bedroom door swings open, and Edd appears. He takes off his sneakers and sets them beside Kevin's door. He remarks, "Good gracious, you're filthy."

"Yeah," Kevin says, "C'mere and kiss me."

"_No_," Edd says, and folds his arms over his chest, "You're dirty."

Kevin groans, "Okay, fine." He scoots back to the edge of his bed and peels off what remains of his uniform's pants, pads and all. Man, there's another fun expense to cover. He flips his jersey up over his head, then shoulder pads, and undoes his vest underneath.

"This is much more of a process than I thought," Edd remarks.

Kevin gives a noncommittal grunt, reaches into his underwear, and pulls out his cup.

Edd makes a face, and Kevin winks at him, probably because the sedative hasn't worn off yet and he's feeling saucy. He reaches to his bedside table and knocks the drawer open to grab his deodorant, rolling it on under each arm. A spritz of cologne later, Kevin says, "Unless you want to help me bathe, this is as good as it's gonna get."

Edd hesitates.

"Come on, dude, don't be a dick," Kevin whines, "I'm tired and my leg is broken and I just want somebody to be nice to me, okay?"

Edd lets out a long, soft sigh. He steps forward and crouches down to where Kevin's sitting, and kisses him.

"Is that better?" he asks.

"A little," Kevin agrees, "But I think I'd like this more." He grabs Edd's waist and pulls him down, over onto the mattress so that they're lying side by side.

Edd squeaks and flails. His hand smacks Kevin in the face, and they both make a noise of surprise.

"Jesus, dork," Kevin says, rubbing his face.

"My apologies," Edd guiltily replies.

It takes a minute, but Edd settles down beside Kevin at last, their heads only a few inches apart. Edd makes the first move, and scoots into Kevin to kiss him. It's nice, real nice, to feel that after such a long fucking day. The kiss is lazy. Edd presses his tongue in Kevin's mouth and licks in long, perfect strokes. A small noise rumbles in Kevin's throat, and he wraps his arms around Edd's skinny body to bring him in closer.

When they part to breathe…Edd is smiling. Just a little. Only barely. But it's a smile. And it makes Kevin smile, too. He runs his thumbs over Edd's lips and remarks, "Nice smile."

The smile vanishes, then. Kevin's stomach sinks.

"Hey," he says, but decides it's best not to comment on it. He nudges Edd instead and says, "You wanna sign my cast?"

"I shouldn't," Edd replies, "because people would think it odd if I did."

"Then draw something," Kevin suggests, "they won't have to know."

"I'm terrible at drawing," Edd responds.

"Who cares?"

Edd frowns, "Fine."

Kevin grins and reaches into the drawer of his bedside table, extracting one of many Sharpies inside. He tosses it to Edd, who fumbles when he catches it. He sits up on his knees and runs a hand over the cast, before choosing a spot near the bottom to do his work. Kevin can't watch long, because his neck is strained and tired, so he waits with his head back on his pillow until Edd says, "Okay, it's dreadful, but I did try."

Kevin stretches to take a peek.

"What is it?" he asks.

"It was supposed to be the Batman symbol," Edd tells him, "Because you like Batman, I thought…Nevermind."

"No, it's awesome," Kevin says, "C'mere, dork." He pulls Edd over to kiss him.

Maybe today wasn't _really_ that bad, after all.

**xxx**

**Thank you all for your continued support! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. PS if you have a tumblr, I reblog KevEdd things on scarlettmiscellany, and that's where I link new chapters and talk about what I'm doing with the fic. **


	4. On A Makeshift Road

**Chapter Track: Go It Alone – Beck **

On Saturday, Edd's performance as Mad Scientist is sterling, and he wakes up on Sunday morning pleased. Having done his homework the day before, he opts to show up unannounced at Ed's house, where Sarah and Jimmy are canoodling on the couch upstairs, and Ed is down in his dank bedroom watching some cult scifi movie from the sixties.

Edd greets him with a cheerful, "Dogpile!" and leaps onto Ed's back, even though he's the only one there and he can't manage a dog-piling on his own. Besides, Ed is made of steel, it seems – he's a strong guy, one of the best on the school's wrestling team.

Still, Ed screams when Double D pounces on him.

"You scared me, Double D," he says, feeling over his buzz-cut blond hair.

"Sorry, Ed," he says, "What are you watching?"

"Barbarella," Ed answers, "She's real pretty, huh?"

Edd watches Jane Fonda cross the screen and agrees, "She is quite attractive. Hey, do you want to go get Eddy? We can stop by the candy shop and head to the arcade."

Ed grins a full, dopey grin and nods, flipping off the television with the remote at his side. He says, "You have so many good ideas, Double D."

Ed sticks his big feet into socks that Double D is not entirely sure are clean, and shoves his feet into his worn out, brown-around-the-edges sneakers. He doesn't bother to tie the laces, and Edd has to remind him to do it before they leave for Eddy's place.

Together, they sneak past Sarah and Jimmy, who are wrapped up in Sarah's flower-patterned blanket and seem to be in between whispering to each other and kissing. Ed makes a gross-out face at Double D when they pass him, sticking out his tongue and scrunching his nose, and Edd laughs quietly.

"Hey, you – you've been okay, right?" asks Ed, when they slip outside, onto his porch. It rained again last night, and the cul-de-sac still smells like the earthy bacteria that gives the world its after-storm aroma.

The question is an astute one, especially coming from Ed.

Edd hesitates and replies, "I've been all right, Ed. Why do you ask?"

"You haven't been smiley," responds Ed. He reaches over grabs at Edd's face. He presses Edd's lips up into a smile and says, "See, you're all – frowny."

"I might be a little stressed," Edd admits, "But I will soldier through, I'm sure. Are _you_ okay?"

Ed grins again and says, "I read a real good Batman comic yesterday. It had Robin in it too, my favorite Robin."

_Kevin likes Batman_, Edd almost says, but instead says, "That's great."

"I know," Ed smiles. They head up the steps of Eddy's house and Ed rings the doorbell, shouting at Eddy that it's time to wake up and they're going out to have fun now. Eddy is a notoriously late sleeper, and with the stresses of their senior year, it seems only to have gotten worse.

When Eddy does answer the door a whole handful of minutes later, he's wearing a purple bathrobe and slippers. Shadows deck the undersides of his eyes. When Edd gives him a reproachful look, Eddy says, "Shut up, Double D. I had a late night. I'm makin' coffee, either of you guys want?"

"No thank you," Edd answers.

"Coffee is gross," Ed expresses.

"Suit yourselves," Eddy shrugs, and retreats back to the kitchen.

There, Ed and Double D find the source of Eddy's _late night. _Eddy throws them a warning glare as he slogs across the linoleum floor to the coffee maker, but Edd and Double D still exchange an uncomfortable glance.

Lee Kanker is sitting at Eddy's kitchen table, red curls wild and bushy, and clothing askew.

Edd almost says _you're kidding_, but thinks the better of it, and decides to lecture Eddy later.

"Cream in your coffee, my dear?" asks Eddy.

"Yes, baby," she says back, and makes a soft purring noise with her tongue.

Ed grimaces and announces, "I'm gonna wait outside, Eddy."

"I'll join you," Edd says. He and Ed make a hasty escape, and sit on the porch together. He whistles lowly and remarks, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what on earth was that? What is he thinking? Well, he _isn't_ thinking, I can tell you that much."

Ed, in lieu of replying, slips his hand into the inside pocket of his army surplus jacket, and pulls out a beaten plastic bag that contains one thing – a single joint. He fishes deep in his holey jeans and dumps a handful of objects onto the porch beside him: a half-empty pack of Trident, two plastic army men, a tangled yo-yo, a balled up tissue, and his objective, a lighter.

"I told you smoking that fodder's an awful habit," Edd admonishes.

"I told you I don't care, Double D," Ed says back, and holds the joint between his teeth. He lights it, inhales, and sighs happily. Edd supposes he shouldn't deny a man his little pleasures, no matter how smelly or illegal they are. And perhaps he understands a little of why Ed is so fond of marijuana. His sister seems to run his life, and between that he barely has a grasp on their schoolwork.

In only a matter of ten minutes, Lee bursts from the front door and shoves them aside, hopping down the front steps and heading off in the direction of the trailer park. She whistles something tuneless as she goes. Edd can't tell if she's angry or just being herself.

Eddy follows soon after, now dressed in his average daywear, a pair of jeans and a button-up over a recently-laundered undershirt.

"I know what you're gonna say," Eddy starts, and zeroes in on the joint in Ed's grip, "Hey, can I get a hit of that?"

"Sure thing, Eddy," Ed says, and passes it over.

Eddy inhales off of the end of the joint and coughs a little before he returns it to Ed. He goes on, "Look guys, I fucked up. I got like, super drunk last night, and I dunno, she called me and I told her to come over and I sort of remember – parts of what happened next – "

"You slept with her, Eddy," Double D says.

"I slept with her," agrees Eddy, "She's fucking off her rocker, man. The only time she let go of me all morning was to answer the door, and I had to make some serious negotiations to do that."

"That's okay, Eddy," Ed soothes, and stands to pat Eddy on the shoulder, "I did second base with May."

"You did _what_?" Edd says. He looks from one to the other.

"I touched her boobs," Ed confesses, and sounds a little sad, "She never stops texting me now." To make his case, he hands Edd his phone. Clear as day, beside May's name, the number of texts reads _1,258. _

"Well, Double D, while we're airing the skeletons out of the closet, you got anything you wanna confess?" Eddy asks, his smug smile fitted to his round face.

For a brief moment, Edd thinks that they might know. But after a few seconds of observation, he's certain that they're merely curious if anything eventful has occurred in his _love life_. Which, he suppose it has. But all this talk of closets and second base makes Edd's gag reflex work up. He thinks about maybe saying something about Kevin, but he knows that would be bad. He doesn't know that his friends would care that he likes boys, just that he's involved with the _wrong boy._

So he says, "No, gentlemen. Nothing to report."

**xxx**

By noon on Sunday, Kevin already feels like he's dying. He opens his bedroom window to let in fresh air, and sticks his entire torso out of it just to feel like he isn't trapped in his own grungy room. The only thing in the entire joint that's clean is his damn fish tank, and he knows he isn't the one that did that.

But the day starts to work in his favor when he sees Nazz headed toward his place. She's wearing one of her usual quirky outfits, with (as she gets closer he can see) unicorn leggings under denim shorts, a black t-shirt that she's hacked to bits with the name of a band he doesn't know emblazoned right across the boob-region.

"Nazz," he calls, still halfway out his window, "I am _so bored_."

"Seriously, Kev? You just broke your leg. Seems pretty dumb to be hanging out the freaking window," she calls back up.

"Yolo," Kevin grunts back.

"Not for long, with that attitude," she laughs. Nazz disappears under his porch, and reappears behind him. She hauls him in by the back of his boxer shorts and sits next to him. She shifts her bag off of her shoulder and dumps the contents onto his Batman sheets.

"Aw, sweet," Kevin says.

Nazz's Wii is there, with Mario Kart, a six-pack of hard cider, and a family-sized bag of Cheetos.

"Shit, you're the best," he says, "I'm miserable, man. I want to be outside. I wanna ride my bike. I wanna throw a frisbee around or something, fuck."

"I know you do," she says, and she rubs his left shoulder, working her thumb into some of the kinks, "All right, lazy, I'm gonna hook my Wii up to the TV. And I'm gonna kick your ass at Mario Kart."

"Fuck you, you are not," Kevin shoots back.

But fifteen minutes later, Princess Peach (Nazz's favorite) is way ahead of him, and Kevin is holding up the behind, no matter how much he flails around in his effort to gain control of the game. He ends up flopped over Nazz's unicorn leggings, face smushed into his sheets in defeat.

"Ugh," he says, "Why do I suck at this?"

"You don't suck, I'm just good at it," Nazz replies.

"Let's take a cider break," he decides. He cracks Nazz's open for her on the edge of his bedside table, and opens his just the same, taking a long, grateful drink. That nice rainy smell is still coming in through his window – for a minute, Kevin feels okay. Sure, his leg is broken, but he's with his friend with alcoholic cider, Cheetos, and a clean fish tank. He's definitely been worse places before.

But he still feels like shit.

"Hey Nazz," he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you about something?" he asks.

"You can talk to me about anything, stupid," she says, and nudges him with her shoulder.

Kevin gnaws on his lower lip and turns to look at her. He adds, "You gotta promise you're not gonna make fun of me."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"I dunno," Kevin mutters, "'Cause I like boys. Boys and girls."

Nazz gives him a look and says, "Oh Kevin, I knew that."

"What do you mean, _you knew that_? I've never said a word until now," Kevin frowns.

"My gaydar is the finest in Peach Creek," she says.

"Fuck you," Kevin says, "Nu-uh."

"Yeah-huh," Nazz says back, "It would be less obvious if you didn't stare at dudes' asses like they're Thanksgiving dinner."

"I don't do that," Kevin protests.

"Yeah, you do," Nazz smiles back.

Kevin falls silent after that, and exhales through his nostrils. He casts his eyes away from Nazz, toward the wall, and says, "I've been messin' around with Double D."

"No shit?" Nazz says, "How the fuck did you manage that?"

"I dunno, Nazz, I'm all fucked up over liking dudes," he admits, and scratches the back of his neck, "If the guys on the team knew…"

"So what? It doesn't hurt them," she says, "Besides, good friends don't care about that stuff. And you still haven't answered how you got the Edd notch on your belt."

"He's not a notch," Kevin says, and turns red, "I mean. He's nice. He cleaned my fish tank. And he let me take off his shirt."

Nazz shifts up to stare at Kevin, "Are you for real? I don't think I've ever seen Double D without a shirt like, ever. He even wears one when he goes swimming."

"I know," Kevin says, "He – seems kind of bent out of shape about how he looks, for whatever reason."

"Why? He's cute."

"That's what I'm saying, dude," Kevin agrees, "But it's like he doesn't believe me."

Nazz's lips curl up into a smile. Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners and she says slyly, "You _like_ him."

"I don't," Kevin says, "Our thing is just – just stuff. It's not like a relationship, or anything." But his face is red and his stomach is turning and his mouth is sour. He knows then that the words are lies on his tongue, that he – he's _feeling_ things. He curls his toes in and clenches his fists and swallows the knot in his throat.

Oh. Oh fuck.

Maybe he does like Double D.

He likes Double D.

What in the hell is he supposed to do about that?

**xxx**

"You told Nazz?" Edd is stricken, and his gut churns with queasiness. He sits down next to Kevin, "Why did you do that? Nobody's supposed to know."

"Look, dude, she's my best friend," Kevin says, "It slipped out. I-I'd never come out to anybody but you. It was weird and I just said it. I don't know. I'm sorry, I guess."

Edd shakes his head and stares at his hands, where they're folded in his lap. The skin on his hands is dry from using too much hand sanitizer too often, and he has Band-Aids wrapped around some of his fingers from picking at his cuticles while he concentrates. He peels at one now, at the corner of his thumb. A spot of blood appears, and he sucks the end of his thumb to make it go away.

He sighs, "That's…all right. I don't think Nazz is the type of person to judge easily."

"So we're cool?" asks Kevin.

"Yeah," Edd says, but he still feels gross inside.

"Maybe I can make it up to you," Kevin says. He's chewing on his lip again. Nerves.

Edd glances over and lifts a brow.

"I could get you off."

"What?" Genuine surprise shakes Edd. He says, "Are you really ready for that?"

"I'm good," Kevin nods, "I mean, I ain't gonna lie, I got no fucking idea what I'm doing, but I can give it my best shot."

"I am not even going to bother addressing the grammatical horror of your sentence," Edd says.

"C'mon, don't change the subject," Kevin says.

"I don't get why you want to be intimate that badly," Edd goes on. He's pink, bright pink, and he can feel his body reacting to this conversation in a way that he really wishes that it wouldn't. This is unexpected. He doesn't know what to do or what to say. And it's not so much the touching as it is that the touching involves Kevin, and Kevin is…well, Kevin. He's handsome and smooth-talking and he wants to do this with Edd, of all people. Likely because Edd is the most convenient option – as far as Edd is aware, there are no other gay men that Kevin is acquainted with, least of all gay men he'd be comfortable experimenting with sexually.

Kevin leans over and kisses Edd.

This makes Edd feel strange. He isn't feeling any butterflies inside, as the cliché says, but something else entirely. A hunger of some kind. It doesn't feel nice, and it doesn't feel like wings fluttering inside him. It feels like his intestines have been replaced by coarse, knotted rope. Like he's standing to close to a fire – his skin is so hot he wants to shed it. Kevin's tongue presses differently this time, and his hand is underneath Edd's t-shirt.

And then Kevin backs off. His face is twisted up, like he can't believe what he's doing. Edd's eyes flick down, and he can clearly see an erection trapped underneath Kevin's sweatpants.

"If you don't, uh. Want me to touch you, can you. Tell me."

Edd is torn. He has a limited amount of sexual encounters to boast of, and none of them occurred with anybody he knew well. He's known Kevin since they were just kids.

It's starting to hurt to breathe. He's anxious. Oh no, not now. Don't panic now.

"Edd," Kevin says, and rests his hand over Edd's collarbone, "Double D. Breathe, man, c'mon."

"S-Sorry," Edd manages, "I know I said I'd help you. I just get so – panicked about being naked, I don't like it very much, I like clothes, they, um."

"There's nothing fucking wrong with the way you look," Kevin scowls, "You think my cock gets hard when it's convenient?"

"Well, yes," Edd says, still frozen to the spot, "It's fairly easy for men to become –"

"All right, all right," Kevin holds up a hand, "Let me lay this down for you, dickhead. There are boners, and then there are guilty boners. A lot a' the time, I get guilty boners when it comes to dudes. Makes me feel bad instead of good when all is said and done, yeah? But it's not like that, here. I know you, dude. I mean, we're not exactly friends but we're not _not_ friends either."

"That's a double negative," Edd mutters.

"Whatever, Double Dork," Kevin shoots back, "The point is that I'm like, okay with you, or whatever. You get it? And you're not butt ugly like Eddy or anything, you're kinda good looking, you know."

"You are spitting out nonsense," Edd tells him.

"No, I'm fucking not," Kevin clenches and unclenches his fists, and then pushes Edd back so he's flat against the mattress. He kisses him harder than ever before, and bites down on Edd's lip. Edd whimpers before he can help it, and reaches up to grab at Kevin's broad shoulders.

Kevin's hands are on him. He runs his palms down Edd's chest through his shirt, and down and down, until he reaches Edd's jeans. He breaks their kiss and stares Edd straight in the eye, licking his lips before he strokes two gentle fingers down the length of Edd's erection.

"This a guilty boner, dork?"

Edd shakes his head.

"Didn't think so," Kevin says, "You want me to take care of it? I promise you don't have to take off any clothes." He leans down and nips at Edd's jaw, lips grazing against a thin layer of dark stubble.

"Okay," Edd nods.

Kevin's eyes see to darken at the consent, and he rubs his palm over Edd's cock through his jeans in long, agonizing strokes, before he unbuttons his fly. His fingers trace Edd through his underwear. Edd curls his toes and tries not to be loud. He muffles some obscene moan behind his hand.

"You are awful," Edd complains.

"Yeah, okay," Kevin says, and makes a face when he reaches into Edd's underwear. His fingers close around Edd's cock. Edd squeezes his eyes shut. He might actually be dying. The feeling of Kevin's hand on him, even working in clumsy strokes, even inhibited by the denim of his jeans, is lovely.

"Faster," Edd says, a little surprised at his own words. Kevin must be, too, because he cocks his head. Edd clears his throat and lifts his chin, "You heard me. I said _go faster_."

"Fuck, fine, calm your shit," Kevin says, but makes his best effort to quicken his pace.

Edd feels the build of climax approaching. He digs his nails into Kevin's shoulders and screws his eyes closed. His breath comes out of his nostrils hard and quick, and then it happens all at once – Edd orgasms in his pants and onto his abdomen. He shakes from the force of it and sinks back into Kevin's mattress.

And Kevin doesn't let go of him.

"You okay?"

"I'm sticky," Edd says at last, "Please clean me up."

Kevin laughs.

"Stop laughing at me," Edd says.

Kevin laughs harder, and extracts his hand. He wipes it on his sheets and snorts, "Yeah, hang on. Could take a second with my leg."

Kevin wheels around and grabs a pair of crutches from where they lean against a wall, and walks himself to the door and out. When he returns, he throws a wet wad of paper towels at Edd and says, "All yours, princess."

"You are infuriating," Edd snips back, but in the haze of having orgasmed he's much more pliable than usual.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Kevin shoots back, and then plops back down on the bed. He scratches a hand through his coppery hair and says, "So, uh. You need like. Some jeans or something."

Edd frowns and says, "Normally I'd be opposed to wearing another person's clothes…but you seem to do your laundry regularly. And I would prefer fresh clothes to these ones. Please. And also if I could have some privacy?"

Kevin hops across the room and opens up his dresser drawers. He lifts up a pair of neatly folded jeans and says, "See? Clean." before launching them across the room at Edd's head.

"Stop throwing things at me," Edd says, and lifts his middle finger.

Kevin just laughs.

**xxx**

**Thank you once again for reading. Lots of love to every one of you!**


	5. Hanging With the Unloved Kids

**Chapter Track: I Am Not A Robot – Marina & The Diamonds**

Kevin still sits with the team despite being out for the season with his bum leg. The guys are sympathetic – he isn't the only one that's had shit luck on the team. At least he didn't have to have eye surgery like Cory did. But he still feels left out with the talk of practices, the teams they're supposed to play in the following weeks, and the after parties at which to either celebrate or commiserate together. They still invite him to come, but it isn't the same.

And soon autumn fades into winter. The first snow of the year hits Peach Creek and he's trapped inside while the rest of the cul-de-sac bundles up and dicks around with snowballs and snow angels. He watches from his window. He bundles up in a Peach Creek High Football hoodie, his leather jacket, and a scarf and opens his window.

Kevin lights up a cigarette and exhales smoke out into the falling snow. He scans the street below, feeling a little like a cranky old man. Sarah and Jimmy are making snow angels, and he can hear Rolf swearing about his animals getting cold even though he can't see him.

His eyes drift to Edd's house. They tend to do that, now. Being that he likes him, or some sort of something like that. Ed and Eddy are wrestling around and throwing snowballs, but Edd is out of their line of fire, building a snowman. It's the most precise snowman that Kevin has ever seen, almost cartoon-like in its roundness.

And then Edd reaches into his pea coat's pocket and pulls out a freaking _measuring tape. _He pulls it out and measures along the length of each section of the snowman. After he packs a little more to the top, seems to like it. He adds pebbles for eyes and a mouth (and measures those, too, holy hell) and branches for the arms.

When Edd finishes it with mittens and his own scarf, Kevin texts him _i like ur snowman._

Kevin flicks his cigarette butt out of his window and smiles as he sees Edd jump and pull his phone out of his coat pocket. He glances over at Kevin's house, and Kevin waves.

A moment later, a text appears on the screen.

_Why are you watching me?_

_my leg is busted wat am i spose 2 do_

_Read a book_, Edd says to this.

Kevin looks back to his room. It's not that he _never_ reads, but it's generally not a pastime he enjoys. He has a couple short fantasy books and some that his mom bought for him before she took off with her boyfriend, but nothing he hasn't already seen a time or few over. And even then, he gravitates toward graphic novels or comic books. They're easier to focus on.

_dont have any but old 1s _

Across the street, Edd looks from his phone to Kevin. His gaze lingers for a moment, though his dark bangs are pushed in front of his eyes by his old black ski hat. He breaks the stares and types out a reply.

_If you give me forty-five minutes, I can come over and bring you a book._

Kevin thinks he'd rather have Edd over for something a little more physical than books, but he'll take what he can get. In the meantime, he lights another cigarette, and keeps watching the fun outside.

Edd talks to his friends for a brief moment and they run off down the street, still throwing snow at each other. Ed trips and Eddy laughs – and Double D disappears inside his house. From his lap, Kevin's phone buzzes again, though, no more than a moment after he's had his first drag.

It's Double D again. He sends an order, _And close your window. You will catch your death with that open._

_ur concerned 4 me thats cute dork_

Kevin hesitates on the send button, but presses it.

A quick response reads: _You are deliberately trying to frustrate me. _

Nothing comes after that, and Kevin listens to Edd's warning as soon as he's smoked through the second cigarette. He closes the window and flops back on his bed. He makes a face at his cast. It's heavily decorated now, with well-wishes from all the kids on the block and his friends at school, and a crude sketch of a penis that Benny drew and Kevin blacked out before any of their teachers saw.

Edd slips out of his house with a canvas bag slung over his arm. Nobody seems to notice him cross the street, with his hat pulled low over his eyes, and his shoulders hunched. It's interesting. Before this whole thing with Double D, he never noticed how good the guy is at making himself invisible. But he is, and Kevin doesn't know if that's a good thing.

"I see you took my advice," Edd greets, and neatly lines his shoes up beside Kevin's door.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," shrugs Kevin, "I'm wearin' warm shit, though. I'm not an idiot."

Edd sheds his black pea coat and folds it. He places it on top of his shoes, and joins Kevin, perching himself on the edge of the mattress. He says, "I brought you a few things. _The Princess Bride_, and you have to promise you won't judge it by its title. It is a very good book."

"I've seen the movie," says Kevin, "_Aaaass yooouuu wisssshhh_."

Edd smiles.

"Ha!" Kevin exclaims, and points, "You smiled."

"And you watched The Princess Bride," Edd says back.

The smile doesn't fade, which makes Kevin a combination of smug, confused, and gleeful. He sits up leans forward to kiss Edd, his hand coming up to play with the hair on the back of Edd's neck while his tongue plies softly into his mouth. Yeah, this is about what he had in mind when he started bugging Edd. Maybe with less clothes, though. Edd takes off his shirt from time to time, and they make out like that a lot now. Edd even likes it better to have no shirt if he lets Kevin touch him, that way there's less laundry that needs doing.

And Kevin started to let Edd touch him, too. It's weird. Edd seems to be better at giving hand jobs than he is, and really, Kevin doesn't like it when people are better than him at something. So he's been trying to get Edd to let him practice a little more.

Edd breaks away first and says, "Before I forget, I also brought you this?" He reaches into his bag and pulls out a stainless steel travel mug that's warm to the touch when Kevin takes it from him.

"It's hot cocoa," Edd says, "I just – well, it's cold out, and I figured you might like it."

"That's _so sweet _of you, dork," Kevin teases, though he kind of means it. He takes a sip. It's just as the right temperature, and tastes awesome. Awesome enough that it prompts Kevin to kiss Edd on the cheek.

Of course, he turns as red as Rolf's candied beets as soon as he does it, and pulls away, taking another swig.

Edd coughs and says, "I wasn't sure about these, but I brought them anyway." He sets a DVD box set between them, and an _enormous_ book.

"Holy shit," Kevin says, and lifts it up, "You could kill a dude with this thing."

"It's the first in a popular fantasy series," explains Edd, "I brought you the first season of the television program, too. It's a good way to pass the time, and I figured you'd probably like it because there is a gratuitous amount of breasts in it."

Kevin chuckles, "Game of Thrones, huh? Well, if it's got boobs…maybe I'll try it out."

"Do you want me to play it for you?" Edd asks, and points to Kevin's TV.

"You gonna watch it with me?" Kevin asks.

Edd nibbles on his lower lip and looks down at his hands. Kevin takes another drink of the hot chocolate and nudges Edd with his elbow. He knows that watching TV together would definitely qualify as "hanging out," which Edd still won't really do with him. After they kiss and come, and all is said and done, Edd takes off, and leaves Kevin alone.

But this time, Kevin can probably play the snow and his broken leg to his advantage.

"C'mon, dork, everybody else gets to dick around outside and I don't have anybody to chill with," Kevin urges, "Just one time, dude. Don't be an asshole."

"Okay," Edd slowly says, "Just this once, and only because I'm taking pity on you."

A small victory, but victory nonetheless.

Edd crosses the room and turns on the television. He slips the DVD in and comes back to sit, perching himself on very edge. Kevin flops back and pats the spot next to him. He says, "Room for one more," and winks.

Edd rolls his eyes but scoots over. He lies next to Kevin and selects play on the DVD menu. He folds his hands in his lap.

When Kevin curls into Double D and turns his face to kiss him again, he flails and muffles a noise of complaint against Kevin's mouth. Only an instant later, he tears away and whispers harshly, "Pay attention to the show, Kevin."

"Okay, okay," Kevin says, but he bites down a smile as he watches the title sequence flick on screen.

But as Game of Thrones starts, Kevin finds himself actually interested. He settles into his mattress and pulls up his old fleece blanket over him. Only then does he realize that Edd's head is sliding over from where he's propped on a pillow. He's asleep, and his head falls against Kevin's shoulder.

Kevin stares for a second. Edd looks different when he's asleep – much less tense, if nothing else. His mouth is slack and his breathing even. His teeth are a little crooked, though white from extensive brushing. And after a moment of consideration, Kevin shifts so he can loop his arm around Edd's shoulders, tucking them close up together. It feels…good. Real good. And it makes his heart thud faster in his chest. He likes this way too much for his own good, a realization that hits him sharply.

Kevin shakes his head and decides to just ignore it.

**xxx**

Edd feels something soft and warm against him when he wakes, and smells cigarette smoke and masculine deodorant. He turns and opens his eyes, and sees Kevin next to him, eyes heavy-lidded and focused on the television screen.

His chest lurches when he realizes he fell asleep here.

"Oh no," he says, which makes Kevin turn to him.

"What?" asks Kevin, with a yawn.

"I fell asleep," Edd says. He moves up into a sitting position and realizes Kevin's arm was wrapped around his shoulders. But nothing else is different. He's still clothed, and in one piece, and when he inspects his reflection in the mirror across the room, there's nothing drawn on him, or anything.

"Yeah, you really passed out," Kevin says, "And okay, this Joffrey kid? I wanna kick this guy in the nuts already, what's with him? I like this dwarf dude, though. Maybe I'll even try to tackle the book."

Edd stares. And he feels twisted and contorted inside. He licks his lips and takes the remote from Kevin's hand, pausing the episode behind him, before he slides up and straddles Kevin's legs. They've never been close like this before. Usually when they kiss and touch, their bodies are still apart. But he likes this, being tangled up like this, and he leans down to kiss Kevin square on the mouth. Kevin's lips part and he sighs. He reaches out and grips Edd's waist.

"What was that for, dork?" he asks, when Edd draws away.

"Because," Edd says, and pauses before he goes on, "Because you are much kinder than I gave you credit for."

"Oh," Kevin says back, without an insult to be had.

Edd kisses him again. He's gotten used to the way that Kevin tastes, that masculine, not-quite-good and way-too-good at the same time taste. It takes only a few moments for him to start to get hard in his pants, with Kevin's tongue twined with his, and Kevin's fingers teasing the skin just underneath the hem of his thermal shirt. Edd moves his mouth to kiss underneath Kevin's jaw, which is grizzy with a couple days' worth of facial hair. Instead of making him unappealing, the hair just makes him more handsome, and has Edd leaning further into his skin to kiss and nip.

Kevin groans, and reaches up to pull Edd's hat off of his head. Edd shivers but goes along with it, and lets Kevin stroke his long fingers through his hair.

Edd draws away and clears his throat.

"I, um, have a request," Edd says, the blush high in his cheeks.

"Yeah? Spit it out, you got me interested," Kevin says.

"I was wondering if you…might find it permissible for me to," Edd takes a deep breath, "perform oral sex on you?"

Kevin goes red and sputters, "Are you serious? Do you – do you even know how to do that?"

"Well, you aren't the first boy I've ever had sexual relations with," Edd admits, "And I read quite a bit, you know. I assure you I am capable of doing at least a decent job."

"That wasn't what I – you've done shit with other dudes?"

"Not many, but enough to have experience," Edd says.

"And you want to do that – with me," Kevin says.

"Yes, obviously, since I would not have asked if I didn't want it," Edd answers, "But the point of a request is that you can turn me down if you don't want it, too."

Kevin blinks and says, "Nah, dude, go for it. I mean. Since you want to. If you're like, really sure. I mean. I keep things clean down there. I know you like stuff clean, so."

Edd smiles a little. He peels Kevin's leather jacket away and helps Kevin lift off the hoodie underneath. All that's left is a t-shirt, and with a little coaxing, that comes away too. Edd kisses the scar on Kevin's chest, and dips down to his navel, and past that to the birthmark.

Kevin isn't wearing pants, just a pair of plaid boxers. Edd places his palm over Kevin's erection and rubs through the fabric. Kevin thrusts into it and grunts. Edd hooks his fingers under the elastic waistband of his underwear and slides them down Kevin's legs.

Edd hasn't really ever seen Kevin wholly naked, at least up close like this. His cock is flushed against his tan abdomen, and dark red hair trails from his navel down to a nest of it. Edd runs his fingers over it and down the shaft of his erection. Kevin inhales, but watches intently. Edd smooths his hair back and leans in. His hands are shaking, and his heart is beating fast.

He puts his lips to the tip of Kevin's cock, and teases a gasp from him. He enjoys making Kevin lose control. Kevin doesn't like when he can't be in the driver's seat, most times, but sexually, he doesn't seem to mind giving into sensation. He lets Edd do what he likes. And they both love it just as much. Edd pushes his mouth open over Kevin's cock and swallows him down inch by inch. The taste is odd but lovely.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Edd," Kevin groans, and threads his fingers through Edd's dark hair, urging him closer.

When Edd has swallowed every bit of Kevin down inside his throat, he flicks his eyes up to meet Kevin's gaze. His blue eyes are cloudy with lust and need. He strokes his thumb over the edge of Edd's jaw and cries out when Edd hums softly around him. Slowly, Edd pulls back up before sliding back down. He moves over and over, and pins Kevin's hips down while he works.

Kevin is flushed and hot to the touch.

"H-Hey Double D, I'm gonna come," Kevin warns on a thin thread of voice.

Edd pulls off of Kevin just as he orgasms onto his abdomen. His softening cock is shiny with saliva, and his a sheen of sweat coats his brow.

"Holy hell," Kevin murmurs, limbs melted into the mattress.

Edd lets out a soft smile and says, "I'll be right back."

"Hey, where you going?" Kevin asks.

Edd slips out into the hallway, and crosses to the bathroom. He washes his hands, and opens the cabinet above the toilet, where he finds towels folded and stacked. He takes a washcloth from the top and wets it under warm water. He returns to Kevin's bedroom and closes the door behind him.

"Mmm," is all that Kevin says when Edd sits beside him and cleans up the mess on his stomach.

"You seem tired," Edd says.

"I'm fucking awesome," Kevin says, "But maybe kinda tired, yeah."

Edd stands and places the soiled washcloth in Kevin's laundry hamper. When he turns back, Kevin has replaced his boxers on his hips and is pulling a fresh t-shirt over his head. He hops across the room and says, "Think Imma nap. You wanna take off?"

Edd nods, and Kevin kisses him. Kevin sticks out his tongue and laughs, "You taste like cock."

"I do not," Edd protests, but still pulls a mint tin out of the pocket of his jeans and pops a couple in his mouth. He replaces his pea coat on his shoulders, and slides his feet back into his shoes before he gives a little wave and says, "Have a nice nap, Kevin."

"Will do, dork."

**xxx**

The next few days pass in a haze of homework assignments, late-night essay writing, and covert make-out sessions in Kevin's bed, Double D feels that he has more than earned a weekend. He has another Mad Scientist show scheduled for Saturday night, but on Friday he declines an invitation (fancy jargon for "a whiny text message") to join Kevin, and opts to have an evening alone. He spends most of this time reading, and tidies his room after that. It feels good to settle in for bed at a reasonable hour, tucked under his covers while wind blows freshly fallen snow into drifts against fences and houses.

On Saturday morning, Edd makes himself an omelet and checks a few chores off of the sticky notes left for him.

Ed comes over in the afternoon and they watch movies together.

"Hey, Double D?" Ed says, when they get to the end of Earth Girls Are Easy.

"Yes, Ed? Do you want another drink? I think we have a couple root beers left," Edd stands to go to the kitchen, but Ed stops him with a shake of his head.

"You like Kevin, don't you," Ed says.

Edd's face falls and his stomach seems to drop miles down. He licks his lips and asks, "What makes you say that?"

"You make googly eyes at him, like in the movies," Ed says, "I don't think Eddy would like that, Double D."

"Please don't say anything to Eddy," pleads Edd, "I just made an arrangement to help him, that's all. Kevin wanted help in becoming comfortable with his sexuality and I – I agreed to help. But don't tell Eddy. It's nothing, really." But this feels like a bald-faced lie. Has his arrangement with Kevin already gone too far? Should he have cut this off before he ended up falling asleep in Kevin's bed, before he let Kevin see him without his shirt or before he did things with Kevin that he never imagined they'd ever do together.

And he enjoyed those things. One seldom enjoys _arrangements_, but it would be dishonest to say he's derived nothing from it. Oh dear.

"I won't tell Eddy," swears Ed, "Pinkie promise."

Edd lets out a sigh of relief and holds out his pinkie, which Ed takes in his much bigger grip.

"Is Kevin nice to you, Double D?" Ed asks.

Edd thinks about it and says, "I suppose he is. Sometimes." He does call Edd names all the time, but he's started to think of them less as insults and more as pet names. How unfortunate.

"If he's ever mean to you, I will kick his ass," Ed promises solemnly, "You're my friend and nobody is mean to my friends."

"I really do appreciate that, though I doubt it will be necessary," Edd tells him. Perhaps it's good that one of his friends should know. Edd rarely feels a need to share his personal thoughts, but knowing that if he must, he could, removes some of the weight from his shoulders.

After one more movie, Ed goes home, and leaves Edd to enjoy the remainder of the daylight hours in solitude. He hopes the roads aren't too snowy when he has to make the drive to the city. Upon looking out the window, most of the snow has melted into slush already, and the main roads must have been salted and plowed. He'll be extra vigilant in any case, since the car he'll be driving belongs to his father, and not to him.

When the time comes, Edd loads his trunk of props into the trunk of his dad's Prius. He has his lab coat on underneath his pea coat. It's chilly out, warmer than the last couple of days but still below fifty. Edd likes the cold. Winter brings his favorite times – Christmas, when his mom and dad are certain to be present, for one. He can drink hot tea without overheating. And he can stay inside without having to concoct a reasonable excuse. Winter means blankets, hot beverages, and quiet, dark nights. Edd is fond of all three.

He pulls out of the garage and onto the road. There isn't too much ice, though he slides a little upon turning out of the neighborhood.

He reaches the venue – a small, musty-smelling place appropriately named _The Vulture_ – and parks behind it beside the van of the performers that he's opening for. One of them, a tall, busty girl with pink hair and upper body strength clearly superior to his own, helps him lift his trunk inside.

"Ah, the face behind Mad Scientist," says one of the stagehands, when he opens the trunk and removes the plastic baggie containing his goggles and surgical mask, "You better start setting up, kid, we're getting people in now."

"Roger that," Edd says, and gives a salute before he dons the rest of his costume. He takes his equipment out on stage, sure to set Daffodil carefully aside while he sets up. There aren't many people here tonight yet, only a few clusters of friends drinking or talking while a song with a sticky beat plays. A couple of whoops sound out when he takes the stage, even though he knows that they're all probably here for the band (The Warriors 5).

It takes only a matter of fifteen minutes to get set up, and with more people filing in, he knows he's due to start soon. Edd adjusts his equipment accordingly, though he checked it before he left for downtown.

He gives the stagehands a signal to tell them that he's ready to play. A moment later, the lights beyond the stage dim to black, and the green lighting he requested illuminates him on stage. Edd introduces himself – but distorts his voice to tweak it into sounding robotic.

"I am the Mad Scientist," is all he says, and he dives into his music.

Edd drowns himself into the beat. Somewhere beyond his music he hears a couple of shouts of encouragement from the audience, and smiles underneath his surgical mask. _This_ is more like it. He doesn't feel so lost, or lead on by his own life anymore. It's here, playing his music, that he's in control. He makes each beat, each sound, each synthetic note, and it energizes him – dopamine. Music makes the dopamine fill his brain.

And Edd does _so_ love his alter ego. Mad Scientist isn't meek, or uncool, or pushed around and trampled on. Mad Scientist isn't hindered by the expectations of others. Mad Scientist does whatever he wants. Here, no one is his master but himself.

Edd laughs under his mask. His beats are loud, and perfect, executed just so: He measures them perfectly, and loves each of them.

His set ends, and the much-larger crowd claps and whoops for him, even as he takes his things down and clears himself off of the stage. Backstage, the pink-haired guitarist of The Warriors 5 gives him a high five and congratulates, "Dude, sick job! You got yourself a fan, Mad Scientist."

Edd pulls down his surgical mask and says, "Thank you. I always appreciate the support."

He even made money tonight, selling his album to a couple dozen people. It puts him in a good mood, even as he dismantles his disguise, tucks everything back into the trunk, and loads it into the Prius again. Edd heads home in a meditative state, feeling right for just a while.

But, as usual, when he pulls back into his cul-de-sac, the feeling washes away, and he remembers that he isn't Mad Scientist anymore. He's Edd, and he has an AP Psychology test on Monday. He has a secret lover that one of his best friends just found out about, a secret lover that is clearly superior to him in most aspects: his physique, his ability to make friends, his smile, the way he easily cajoles others into doing what he wants. Kevin has a glamorous future ahead of him, whereas Edd's most likely lies in a dusty laboratory.

As Edd struggles with pushing his equipment trunk back up the stairs, his phone buzzes with a text message. He pulls the device out of his pocket as soon as he heaves the trunk to the top of the staircase. Kevin's name flashes across the screen.

_hey where u goin so late at nite huh_

And another only an instant later:

_u partyin without me _

Edd types back, _Nothing nearly so exciting. I had to run an errand in town for my mother. _

He returns the trunk to its rightful place in his perfectly arranged closet, and places Daffodil back on her spot on his specimen shelf. His cellphone vibrates again.

_lame. u wanna come over an makeout_

And Edd answers in the affirmative, as he tends to do.

Yes, here, he is just Edd. Only Double D. Willing to do anything, meek on his best days, submissive on his worst. Mad Scientist remains far away in the city, and what's left is all that Edd can't stand about himself.

With a long sigh, he laces his shoes onto his feet, and heads across the street.

**xxx**

**Hope you all enjoyed this installment! Thank you for all the reads/reviews/favorites and follows. **


	6. Follow Me Into Nowhere

**Chapter Track: Celestica – Crystal Castles**

Edd didn't know when he had started to dread coming to school, but he realizes that it must have been going on for a long time. He can't remember a time when he didn't agonize over the people he might run into, or what names they might call him. Kevin, naturally, used to be counted among them – but now during school hours, Kevin holds up his end of their bargain beautifully, and acts as though Edd isn't there.

Still.

Edd loves to learn. It's part of what makes him who he is. But he dreads school most days. In the classroom he is safe, surrounded by information and the watchful eye of a supervising adult, but out in the hall…or when their teacher turns their head…it's hell. Just _hell._ Vulgarity aside, he can think of no better work to describe it.

Today is one of those days. Some big guy – he looks familiar, though Double D doesn't share any classes him – pushes him back against a row of lockers and laughs.

"Fag!" he says, and the guys walking with him laugh, too.

Edd closes his eyes and stands still against the lockers for a moment, until a blond girl tells him to move. He navigates the hallway with his shoulders hunched up, and tries to think of how he'd act if he were Mad Scientist in the same situation. Except, he doubts anybody would call Mad Scientist a 'fag.' Perhaps _psycho_ or _weirdo_, but Edd can handle those. Many great scientists have been called crazy, and he's fine with being named that.

When he's safely enclosed in AP Psych, he feels a little better. Their teacher hands back their graded test, and that never fails to make him feel better – seeing an A, posting it on the refrigerator in hopes that his parents will see it, too.

Except that the test that lands on his desk does not have an A on the top of it.

A distinct **B**, instead, is marked at the top.

"Mr. Dunkirk –" Edd begins.

"Yes, Eddward, that is the correct score. Never thought you'd be subject to senioritis," Mr. Dunkirk replies, and doesn't even look Edd in the eye. It's insulting, Edd's blood curdles in his veins. But he knows to be respectful to authority, and clenches his jaw, turning to stare straight ahead.

It seems like ages before Edd makes it to lunchtime. He realizes with a jolt that his friends will be expecting him, but he doesn't think he has the patience to be with them today, and that's putting it quite kindly.

So instead, he makes a quick escape and slips out through the back door next to the theatre department. At least back here, there's solitude, and that's about all he can hope for right now. He chooses a neat-looking spot on the pavement and parks himself there, opening his Bill Nye lunchbox in his lap. And Edd eats in peace, at least. He knows his sandwich tastes dry because he's feeling down, and his carrots seem tasteless for the same reason, but he seems to have hit the point in this awful day in which he cannot be logical anymore. His mediocre lunch just upsets him more.

He reenters the school building with the weight on his shoulders heavy and exhausting.

"Hey, Sockhead, where were you all lunch, huh?" he hears, as soon as he turns toward his locker. Eddy jogs to catch up with him.

"I needed a little solitude," Edd explains.

"Well, I needed you, man. So I've got this great idea for this weekend, and I need your help to pull it off –"

"Eddy, have you ever thought that perhaps instead of scheming, you could simply look for employment?" Edd asks.

Eddy gives him a scathing look and says, "A job? Are you kidding? Jobs are for suckers. Anyway, I gotta get to class, but I'll Facebook you the details, okay?"

Before Edd can ever answer, the crowd has swallowed Eddy whole.

Edd dutifully trudges through the rest of his classes, even gym class. He runs the laps just like the rest of the class, and decides not to care when another one of Kevin's friend shoves past him and knocks him onto his backside on the track.

No better relief is felt than hearing the final bell ring on a terrible day. Edd gathers his things and hurries down the front steps before anybody can stop him, talk to him, trip him, or anything else that might make him blow a gasket and release his frustration on an innocent bystander.

_Release his frustration. _An idea occurs to Edd, then, a brilliant idea. He takes out his cellphone and pulls up Kevin's contact. He types a concise text: _I will meet you at your house. _

Kevin, a diligent texter, sends back, _k but its pretty early 4 u wats up_

_Nothing. I just feel like it. _Edd sends this back, and tucks his phone back into his jeans. He bustles down the sidewalk, and thinks he sees Nazz's car pass him with Kevin in the passenger's seat, but he can't be certain. It's dreary out. Though most of the snow has melted, some of it is crusted in dirty ice patches where shade falls. Edd nearly slips walking past his old middle school, and a couple of the kids still hanging outside the school have a laugh at his expense.

It's a quick jaunt from there to Kevin's, but Edd wants to make certain that he isn't seen. He (rudely – though it is necessary to do so) cuts across lawns and dips behind a tree before he ascertains that the coast is clear, and jogs up onto Kevin's porch. He ducks inside without knocking, as Kevin has given him leave to do whenever he comes over.

Edd heads upstairs, still simmering.

"Heya asshole," Kevin greets. He has Game of Thrones open in his lap. Edd wonders if he did that on purpose or if he's truly reading the book.

And Edd isn't in the mood for name-calling. He arranges his shoes and pea coat by the door as usual, but goes for broke and shrugs his shirt off, too. He strides across the room and joins Kevin on the bed. Edd removes Game of Thrones from Kevin's grip and sets the book on his bedside table, so he can climb up into Kevin's lap. He seizes Kevin by the collar of his shirt and yanks him into a rough kiss. Kevin makes a noise of surprise, but curls his arms around Edd and heaves him closer.

Edd breathes hard, and in his eagerness he bites down on Kevin's lower lip.

"Ahh –"

Edd pulls his mouth from Kevin and moves to his neck and jaw. He kisses hard, and bites there, scraping his teeth down over hot, sensitive skin. When he draws away, Kevin has hickeys blooming all the way down his throat, and it only builds the fire in Edd's gut higher, filling him with flame and smoke. He tears Kevin's shirt off of him and can't be bothered to fold it at all before he scrapes his nails over Kevin's skin and bends to run his tongue from collarbone to nipple.

"Hey, uh, Edd," Kevin gasps out.

"What?" Edd snaps.

"You're kinda acting weird…um. Do you – are you, like, okay?"

"I'm fine," Edd tartly replies, and bends in to kiss Kevin's neck again. He bites down.

Kevin lets out a hiss of pain and makes a soft sound of complaint before Edd comes crashing back down to earth. He backs off and stares at Kevin – hair disheveled, bruised neck and collarbone, and a bewildered expression on his face – and says, "S-Shit."

"Whoa, hey," Kevin says.

"I apologize," Edd murmurs, "I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate."

But as Edd tries to shift off of Kevin, Kevin's grip holds him down. He replies, "Dude, it's fine. The biting is kinda hot, actually. But, like. That's not your deal usually."

The blood rushes to Edd's face and he runs his hands through his mop of dark hair. He grits his teeth and says, "I was shoved around and called a fag, I got a B on my Psychology test, my lunch was awful, Eddy continues to be impossible, and one of your friends intentionally tripped me in gym class. Now if you don't mind, may I proceed?" To illustrate, Edd drags a nail across one of Kevin's nipples.

Kevin sucks in a breath, and when Edd bends in to kiss his neck again, Kevin stops him and gently pushes him back, "Whoa, man. C'mon, do you wanna, uh, talk or whatever?"

"No, I _do not_," Edd says, "I just want to come. That is all I want. Okay?"

Kevin assesses Edd for a moment, brows crunched together. Finally, he says, "Okay."

"A fine choice," Edd says, and moves off of Kevin. He stands, and undoes the fly of his jeans, pulling them down and away from his body. He does fold them, still, but places them on Kevin's desk instead of with the rest of his clothing. Edd returns to Kevin and asks, "May I please take off your pants."

Kevin glances down at his sweatpants and answers, "Uh, go for it. I guess."

Edd makes quick work of Kevin's sweatpants and his single sock before he straddles him again. He presses their lips together, hard, and grips Kevin's shoulders. His nails bite down into the soft skin, and that cigarette-mint taste of Kevin's mouth makes him hard. He knows his pink in the face from his ears down – he's never had his pants off in front of Kevin before. But Edd can't find it in him to be embarrassed. He doesn't care.

In fact, he wants it all off. He's too hot in his boxer-briefs, and he certainly could do with seeing Kevin in the nude again. Edd toys with the waistband of Kevin's boxers and nips down on Kevin's swollen lower lip, tugging before he lets go and asks, "May I?"

"Yeah," Kevin ineloquently replies.

Edd does away with the boxers in record time, and slinks away to rid himself of his own.

"Wow – uh," Kevin sputters, when Edd slides back into place on top of him.

"What?" Edd asks, teeth clenched.

"Nothing, man, you just look nice in the buff, is all," Kevin says.

Edd rolls his eyes. It's a line – Kevin is used to using lines when it comes to sex. He can hardly be blamed. He decides to ignore it, and grips both of their erections in one long-fingered hand. He flicks his wrist and Kevin groans, throwing his head back onto his pillow.

"Fuck," Kevin mutters when Edd does it again. He works his hand over them both in a steady rhythm. His hips lift a little with each touch of his own hand, his erection shifting against Kevin's in the most delicious way imaginable.

While he strokes his hand over them both, he peppers kisses down Kevin's freckled arms. He bites and licks and kisses and leaves hickeys – little marks that he will see and know he made. The thought sends a little shiver through him and he lets out an inadvertent moan. Edd can feel himself close to climax, and so he lifts his head to smother Kevin's mouth with his own, groaning against Kevin's tongue.

He comes first, over his hand and them both. Kevin seems to like it, though, so Edd doesn't stop his ministrations. He kisses Kevin's chest and runs his hand over his cock again and again until –

Kevin comes too, on the end of a strangled cry.

Only then does Edd finally slump and relax.

He does feel…a little better. Maybe. He's still angry. Angrier than he thought he would be after he came. Still, he gets up and crosses the room, exiting to the bathroom, where he takes a fresh washcloth and wets it as always, to clean them both up. Kevin watches without speaking as Edd reenters his bedroom and mops them both up.

Kevin takes the cloth from him and tosses it on the floor.

"Feelin' any better, Double Dork?" he asks. The old insult isn't spoken like an insult, and so Edd decides he doesn't mind. Or maybe that's the peace of his orgasm talking. Either way, he doesn't care.

"Fine," Edd says, and he rolls over Kevin to stretch out on the empty space beside him. He curls up and says, "If you don't mind, I'd like to fall asleep here."

"I thought we weren't supposed to hang out," Kevin says, an idiotic smirk on his stupid face.

"Fuck you, I don't care," Edd snips back.

"Christ, okay, fall asleep, I don't give a shit," Kevin says, "Do you wanna blanket or anything?"

"Yes, please," Edd says.

Kevin wiggles down to the end of the bed and retrieves an old quilt, which he unfolds and lays out over Edd. He asks, "That cool?"

"It's nice. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem, dork."

Edd exhales and closes his eyes. He feels Kevin sink back down into the mattress and shift around a little before choosing a spot to stay in.

And then he feels Kevin's hand on his back, soft at first, just the tips of his fingers. When Edd doesn't react, Kevin lets his whole palm settle on Edd's back. He moves it back and forth for a long, long few minutes before he stops and turns away.

The anger is gone.

**xxx**

Kevin blinks awake, bleary-eyed and a little sore. He registers that he's in his room, and the rest of the afternoon soon comes quickly back to him. Double D just went wild, or something. He rubs his eyes and glances down at himself, where a dozen dark hickeys have sprouted on his neck and over his collarbones. He scratches at them and rolls onto his side.

Edd is still asleep, curled into a tiny ball underneath the quilt that Kevin's grandma made. It's probably weird that Kevin let his naked dude-booty call tuck himself up under that. But it doesn't feel weird. Kevin decides to let him sleep and reaches for where Edd put Game of Thrones. So far, it's good, but Kevin's such a slow reader that he's slogging through it like molasses. But he's trying, and he likes it so far, so he figures he'll just keep going.

Kevin knows that Edd is awake when he feels him tense up on the mattress beside him.

Kevin glances over and sees Edd clutching at the edge of the quilt, pulling it over his bare shoulders. When he sees Kevin looking, he turns red and says, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what," Kevin deadpans, and lifts a brow.

"This is humiliating," Edd says, "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to behave that way. I was…indisposed. I was not myself. I'm horrified."

"Whoa, easy tiger. We're good, dude," Kevin says, and scans over where Edd is hanging onto the quilt for dear life, "You want me to get your clothes for you?"

"Yes, please," Edd quietly answers.

Kevin sets the book aside and shifts out of the tangled blankets and sheets. He hops and gathers each of Edd's garments, placing them in a neat stack in front of him. He scratches the back of his neck and offers, "You want me to turn around or something?"

"That would be appreciated," Edd nods.

Kevin limps off and parks himself in his desk chair. The upholstery is abrasive against his naked skin, but he makes himself sit patiently with his back to Double D until he hears, "Okay, you can look now."

Edd is fully redressed, frown back in place on his angular face, and shoulders hunched back up.

"Here, lemme get some shorts on and I'll walk you to the door," Kevin says.

"That's not necessary," Edd replies, but Kevin waves him off and collects a fresh set of boxers from his topmost dresser drawer. He sits down on his mattress so he can get the first leg over his cast, and stands to slip them up into place. He decides not to bother with his crutches and limps along behind Edd, leaning on the bannister when they reach the stairs.

By the time they make it to the front door, Kevin's a little winded. He doesn't think he cares, though. The house is quiet, and Kevin doesn't see his dad's coat or shoes where they usually are. He probably went to get a beer or something after work, which in this case Kevin is grateful for.

He leans in and kisses Edd. No tongue, just a touch of the lips, and says, "Hey, you have a better night, okay, asshole?"

Edd just responds, "You have my deepest, sincerest apologies for everything I did."

"Dude, if I wasn't cool with it, I would've stopped you," Kevin says. He hesitates, but after a second of thought, brings Edd into an awkward embrace.

Edd doesn't hug him back. He instead slips out of Kevin's grip and mutters, "Good night, Kevin."

"G'night," Kevin answers. He stands in the doorframe and watches Edd take off across the street, head down and coat collar popped up around his ears. Only when Edd reaches his own house and disappears inside does Kevin at last shut his own door.

It's cold in his house now, but it doesn't seem to Kevin that the credit for the temperature belongs only to his open front door. It's something in his chest, a kernel of discomfort that widens when he glances out the window to look at Edd's house across the street, and down to the bruises all over his neck and chest.

Man, what is with that kid?

**xxx**

A couple days later, Kevin sits cross-legged on his floor with Nazz, their homework, and a bowl to smoke between the two of them. He'd rather play video games with her, but he knows he needs to keep his grades up for when he gets his cast off and later when baseball season rolls around. Kevin scrawls down an answer to a question for English in his chicken scratch and says, "Hey, pass the pipe."

Nazz blows out a long wisp of smoke and complies, a sleepy smile on her face.

"Your fucking lipstick is everywhere," complains Kevin, and he wipes the purple gunk off onto his shirt before he lights up and inhales.

"Cry me a river," says Nazz, "Hey, what did you put down for this one?"

Kevin passes her the paper.

"Nice," Nazz says, "Quality bullshit."

"I know," Kevin replies, "My bullshit is the finest."

"Hey, when we're done, you wanna hit up the movies?" asks Nazz, "I wanna see the Evil Dead remake. I hear it's scary as hell."

"Sure, yeah," Kevin says.

Nazz studies him through eyes decked with turquoise eyeshadow and queries, "Hey Kev, you okay? You seem kind of out of it...is it your thing with Double D?"

"Uh," Kevin draws out, and runs a hand through his red hair, "Kinda, yeah. Here, check this out." He pulls his t-shirt up over his head and turns so Nazz can see the hickeys. She could already see the ones on his neck – and definitely teased him about it, but he didn't mention the rest of them.

Nazz whistles lowly, "Damn. Are those bite marks?"

"Yeah," Kevin says, "He was fucking busted up the other day, like I guess some dumb dudes were assholes to him at school and he wanted Eddy to leave him alone or something, I don't know. Here, look at these, too." He shifts around to display his back, where pink scratch marks are still visible.

"Good fucking God," Nazz says, "Dunno, Kev, maybe he's not as confident as you thought he was. We all have issues, you know. And you figure if there's anybody that's quiet about theirs, it's Double D. He never talks about himself. It's kind of freaky, when you think about it."

Kevin pulls his shirt back over his chest and leans back, propping himself against the side of his bed and stretching his legs out over the carpet. He kicks aside a dirty shirt and says, "Yeah, dude. I guess I didn't think about that. He also got like, full naked."

"No shit?"

"For real," confirms Kevin, "And he looked good, and I like told him that right? He fuckin' rolled his eyes at me. And now he says he can't hang out with me on Saturday again. I don't get him, Nazz."

"Eh, give him space," Nazz shrugs, "But if this means you're free on Saturday…"

"Tragically, yes," Kevin replies.

"You remember my friend Gillian? You know, the one in the band?" Nazz asks.

Kevin vaguely recalls being dragged downtown to something and meeting a bunch of scruffy musicians that smelled like pot and BO. He says, "The one with the pink hair?"

"Yeah, her," Nazz confirms, "She burned me a copy of this CD she bought at one of her shows, said the guy that opened for their band was super kick-ass. And I'm totally addicted to Mad Scientist now, you have to listen to his shit, it's excellent. _Anyway_, he's playing again on Saturday night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?"

"Yeah, why not?" Kevin says.

Maybe he'll be able to get Edd out of his head for a night. Who knows?

**xxx**

**Thank your for your continued support & much love to you all!**


	7. In My Rocket I Soar

**Chapter Track: Planet X Marks The Spot – Dr. Steel**

**TW: Brief dubcon. **

Kevin wakes on Saturday groggy and in a mood. For a long while, he lies in bed, pulling his blanket up around his shoulders and shivering against the early morning chill. Edd hasn't spoken to him in a couple of days. He managed to catch him on Friday after school, and finagled his way into a hasty make out near the creek, before Edd said he was too cold and practically sprinted home before Kevin could get a word in edgewise. It happened when Edd's fingers touched the faded hickeys on Kevin's neck. His frown deepened, and he fled.

On that thought Kevin sits up. He fumbles around in his backpack where he left it at the side of his bed and pulls out his half-smoked pack of cheap cigarettes and plastic lighter. He grabs for his leather jacket and shrugs it on before he opens his window and lights up.

According to his phone, it's almost noon, and he doesn't have a single text from any one of his friends, or Edd. Lame. A lot of them have been doing shit without him because of his busted leg. He tells himself he doesn't mind but it sucks no matter the reassurance he gives himself. At least he's got Nazz. He'll have to enjoy this concert thing from the back of the venue, mostly likely, but she's inviting him to do shit and that's about as much as he can ask.

When Kevin finishes his cigarette, he stubs it out in the bowl he uses as an ash tray and grabs his crutches to head downstairs for breakfast. He smells coffee and sees his dad at the table, mug and paper in hand. When Kevin comes downstairs he lowers the newspaper briefly and gives him a nod, but doesn't say anything.

"This house sure is fucking quiet for having two people living in it," Kevin says.

"Don't be difficult, Kevin. I'm not in the mood," his dad grunts back, and doesn't bother looking away from the newspaper this time.

Kevin rolls his eyes but decides to drop it. He gets nothing out of arguing with his dad, no matter how tempting it is more often than not. He navigates to the coffee maker silently instead, and stretches up to pull down a mug from their dish cabinet (this is a difficult exercise with his leg down for the count). He pours himself a hot cup of Folger's and sits at the kitchen table. He wouldn't if his leg weren't broken – he'd take it upstairs and drink it in the shower like he prefers to do. He hates sitting in silence with his dad.

But maybe Kevin's petulance paid off today, because his dad folds the paper, takes a sip of his coffee, and asks, "Everything all good at school?"

"Yeah, fine," Kevin shrugs.

"You gotta girlfriend?" his dad asks, and raises his mugs at the hickeys.

Kevin licks his lips and lies, "Yeah, kinda. She doesn't want a 'relationship' or whatever. Lives downtown. Her name's Edith." He wonders if he's going to lie about things like this for the rest of his life. The truth sits on the tip of his tongue, poised to leap: Actually, his name's Edd. You know, from across the street? The smart one.

"Huh. You kids being safe?"

"I'm not stupid, Dad," Kevin says.

"Just making sure," he replies, "Too young to be a granddad, you know."

"Dude," Kevin says, and they drop the conversation.

Kevin finishes his coffee and rinses his mug out in the sink before making the struggle back upstairs to bathe (another struggle) and get dressed (yet another struggle). The entire process of this all takes about an hour and a half, and by the time he's dry and clothed, he's exhausted all over again, and collapses back onto his mattress. He blows all the air out of his lungs and checks his phone – just one text, from Nazz.

_Better not forget about the show tonight ;D_

Kevin doesn't respond, and instead opens a blank text message. He types Edd's name into the _send to_ section and pauses on what to say. He doesn't have a way with words, at least not like Edd does. But he figures a utilitarian message is better than nothing and types out _hey im hangin w nazz tonite but if u change ur mind about chillin we can do that after_.

After that Kevin tries to concentrate on reading the enormous Game of Thrones volume, but can't seem to focus for more than a few minutes at a time, and has to set it aside. He naps, and smokes through a few cigarettes. He only goes downstairs when he's absolutely desperate to eat, and ends up consuming what feels like half of their stock in frozen food – some chicken nuggets, a hot pocket, a mini pizza – and washes them down with a beer.

Kevin kind of wonders why his dad never bothered trying to stop him from drinking. He used to drink in excess, and still does from time to time at parties, though nothing like he used to. Kevin took up the habit when his mom left. At first it was to cure (or wallow in) the funk her absence sent both him and his father into. His dad never told him not to take beers from the fridge, or dig into the stash hidden under the sink. He knew, and Kevin knew he knew, but nothing was ever said.

Eddy once overheard Kevin relaying this information to some of the guys on the baseball team and tried to con vodka out of Kevin, calling him _so fucking lucky. _God, Kevin hates that guy. He doesn't know how Double D can tolerate his bullshit.

But then, Double D seems to tolerate everybody's bullshit. Except he let it out – on Kevin, and now they're not really talking. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

By the time Nazz shows up at Kevin's front door, he's in a mediocre mood. She ducks in when Kevin isn't quite ready, and joins him in his bedroom. She plops down on his desk chair while he reapplies deodorant and checks the state of his hair in the mirror. She's decked out for the night in torn-up jeans and combat boots, and some weird sequined top that's see-through in the back.

"I can see your bra, dumbass," he says, as he takes his crutches and makes his way down the stairs behind her.

"Whoa, no fucking way," Nazz snarks back, "I never noticed."

"Shut up," Kevin says.

"Man, you're in a mood," Nazz says, "You want some booze? I have some cheap shit somewhere in my backseat."

"My angel," Kevin deadpans, and Nazz smacks his arm.

"Laying it on a little thick, dipshit," she says, and Kevin laughs.

At least Nazz has the ability to make him feel better when he's pissy. Edd hasn't texted him back at all, and that frustrates him far more than he thinks it should. When they load up into the car, Kevin stacks his crutches in the backseat and retrieves the aforementioned "cheap shit," a gigantic jug of Smirnoff that's been barely touched.

"Nasty," Kevin says.

"No one's making you drink it, dude," Nazz tells him, "Buckle up, Kev."

"Yeah, yeah," he waves her off, but complies. She starts the car, and he stares at the Smirnoff. After a moment's hesitation he uncaps it and takes a sloppy, nasty swig. Most of the alcohol ends up on his shirt. What does end up in his mouth is dreadful. Kevin replaces the cap on it and puts the thing in the backseat where it came from.

Nazz switches ejects the CD in her car, some punk CD that Kevin's been hearing on the way to and from school for the past week. She instructs him to find the case and puts in the new CD, one that reads _Mad Scientist: Gallium Spoons and Double Helixes. _

"Sounds like the kind of shit Double D would like," Kevin remarks.

"Most of it's just electronic," Nazz explains, "he only has a couple where he sings or says anything. But who even knows what Edd listens to? Does he even like music?"

"Doesn't everybody?" asks Kevin.

"Some people don't care," Nazz tells him.

The music that floods the car is synthetic and hypnotic. Kevin finds himself tapping his foot along with the songs as he and Nazz roll down the highway. Nazz nods her head to the beat and they both grin at each other. Already Kevin feels more at ease. And if that's not what friends are for, then he doesn't know what is.

Downtown is a different beast than it is during the day. In the daylight hours, downtown Peach Creek is a slightly-dank, bustling metropolis of hurried businesspeople, hipsters barely distinguishable from homeless people, and actual homeless people – the latter two both asking passersby for money, only one does it with an acoustic guitar.

At night, it lights up. It smells like cigarette smoke and sounds like drunken laughter. Nazz has to park a couple blocks away from the venue to avoid parallel parking, and apologizes to Kevin. But honestly, he's just happy to be out of the suburbs, doing something different for a change.

"That chick in the blue top was checking you out, dude," Nazz says, as they walk along over sidewalks sprinkled with flattened gum.

"Sure she wasn't just checking out the cast?" Kevin asks. He's wearing his only pair of jeans that will fit over the thing, an ancient, faded baggy pair. The end of his cast is visible. He cannot wait to get rid of the stupid thing.

Nazz comments, "Man, you didn't even care that a girl thought you were hot."

"Of course I care," Kevin says, affronted, "Sort of. I dunno."

"This is because of Double D, isn't it?" asks Nazz, "C'mon, Kev, you're gonna forget about him for a night, okay? We're gonna have a blast and then you can keep worrying tomorrow."

Kevin snorts, "Sounds good, dude." But he doesn't know if he can actually accomplish it.

Nazz pays for both their tickets at the venue, and both of them get giant, sharpie Xs marked onto the back of their hands, like a LAME stamp pressed right into their skin. They stand in the back of the venue, but Kevin still turns to Nazz and says, "Hey, if you wanna go up there, you can. I don't mind."

:"Eh, I can stick it here for a while," she says, "I might when he starts, though. Got my mosh boots on." She stomps with one booted foot for emphasis.

"Do you think Double D ever goes to shows?" Kevin wonders out loud.

Nazz lifts a brow, "Kev, I thought you were trying to put him out of your mind."

"Yeah, trying," Kevin says, "Doesn't mean it's gonna work."

Nazz makes a face at him and Kevin makes a face back. A few teenagers dressed in rave gear come in and stand in front of them, making Kevin grateful that he's tall. Nazz is much less so, capping off at a slightly-less-than-average 5'3.

As they wait for the show to watch, Kevin passes the time by people watching with Nazz. Kevin looks out of place here in his baggy jeans, baseball tee, and backwards hat – most of the people here are punky-looking or whacked out on ecstasy and drenched in nylon and neon.

"I think your game is off 'cause people think I'm your boyfriend," Kevin remarks absently.

"Yeah, you look really straight," Nazz says.

Kevin cocks his head, "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Mostly that you have bad taste," Nazz tells him, but pats his arm.

Kevin elbows her and says, "Screw you, I look great."

A guy shows on stage with a trunk.

"Sick, that's him," Nazz says.

He's wearing a long, white lab coat that glows eerily under the black light on stage. He has goggles on his face, and a mask over his mouth. He's tall, impressively tall. They watch him set up his equipment and Nazz lets out an excited, "Yeah, Mad Scientist!"

And then Mad Scientist takes out something that looks familiar. Really fucking familiar.

"Oh my _fucking_ God," Kevin says.

It's Daffodil. It's fucking Daffodil, the one-eyed piglet in a jar that Edd keeps on a shelf in his bedroom. He can even see the label on the lid from here with her name in white block letters.

"What?" Nazz asks.

"Oh. My _fucking. God_," Kevin repeats, "That's fucking Edd up there! That's his fucking pig in a jar. I can fucking see it from here. He has that in his room. And – and those are the goggles we saw him wearing at school, remember?"

Nazz stares at Kevin and turns to look back up on the stage. Her lips fall open and she says, "No fucking way. You're making shit up."

"I'm not," Kevin insists, "Go up there. Go look at the pig in the jar. Tell me what the lid says. I will bet you anything that jar says Daffodil."

"Daffodil?" questions Nazz.

"That's the name of his cycloptic piglet," Kevin says, and waves his hands in a wild gesture.

This can't – it can't fucking be true. Is this why Edd won't hang out on Saturdays? Why he gets back late at night? It fits, and it fits too well. But – mixing music? Really cool music? And having the nards to get on a stage and play it in front of people? That doesn't seem like Edd at all.

Nazz slips away and through the crowd. A minute later, she comes back and solemnly says, "You were right. The jar says Daffodil."

But before Kevin can throw the shit fit that's building in his gut, the venue goes dark. The crowd cheers loudly. Nazz shrugs and joins them, screaming, "Aww yeah! Rock on Double D!"

Mad Scientist (Double D?) taps the microphone at his mouth and greets, his voice distorted and deepened, "Hey. I'm Mad Scientist. Welcome to my laboratory."

The bass drops immediately, so loud that Kevin can feel a fucking breeze. The venue screams and Edd bobs along to the beat of his own music, the industrial thumps and clanks, and the synthetic soars. Nazz touches Kevin's arm and points to the crowd before slipping away to join the front, where already they're pushing each other to the beat.

Kevin swallows the knot in his throat and watches with his stomach twisted up. It is Edd. His dark hair is sticking up everywhere. He's tall and twig-thin. And Kevin _knows_ that you couldn't pay him any amount to take that piglet away, even just for a night. There is no denying that the person on stage is, in fact, Double D. The same Double D that can never say no to anyone, that walks with his head down, that studies dutifully and finishes everything with time to spare.

And he's _amazing. _He has the entire venue in the palm of his hand, writhing and dancing, shouting and cheering – Kevin can't help but at least bob his head along, and he's in the middle of emotional turmoil. The person that Kevin is watching is still Edd, but like…a different Edd. The kind of Edd that Kevin sometimes thinks he sees glimpses of, when they kiss and touch, and sometimes when he's been able to cajole Edd into hanging out.

This Edd – this one knows himself. Not that Edd doesn't on a regular basis – it's just that Mad Scientist isn't apologetic about what he is.

Kevin starts to sweat, and not just because of the heat of the venue. He moves with the beats of the songs, but his eyes never leave Edd, as his body sways and he nods and his fingers fly over his equipment. He doesn't pause for a moment, in character the entire time.

When his set comes to a close, he says into the microphone, "You can buy my CD in the back for five bucks. It's all going toward college tuition, trust me."

Edd starts to pack up, and Nazz rejoins Kevin in the back.

"Wow," she says, "he's so good live. And he's fucking Double D. I feel like I just took drugs and I am on some weird trip."

"You're telling me. I'm the one that's messing around with him," Kevin says, "But he never said a word."

"Probably doesn't want anybody to know," Nazz says.

"Why? It's fucking awesome," Kevin says.

"You'd have to ask him, man," Nazz replies.

Kevin licks his lips. He turns and says, "Maybe I'll do that."

"Kev, that is ten kinds of bad idea," Nazz tells him.

"I give zero kinds of shits," Kevin replies, "I'll text you if I'm coming home with you. But if I get my way I'm going with the dork. Peace."

Nazz shakes her head at him but lets him go. Kevin knows it's a bad idea, and doesn't care. He exits through the front doors and follows his best instinct on where an artist would park – near the back. He navigates through a narrow, urine-scented alleyway, past a couple of sketch looking guys and a couple in an intense make-out, before he breaks out into the back parking lot.

That is definitely Edd's dad's Prius, though no one is out here but a couple of smokers. Kevin sets his crutches against the brick wall and leans there, waiting.

Sure enough, the back door squeals open, and Edd appears. He no longer wears his Mad Scientist garb, just jeans and a red-shirt, though his goggles still dangle around his neck.

"You need some help with that, dork?"

Edd jumps and veers. Surprise reads on his face at first – and then pure, unadulterated _rage_. Worse than the day Kevin got all his hickeys.

"Did you _follow_ me here, Kevin?" demands Edd.

"No, asshat, I did not," Kevin defends, "Nazz likes your shit, and I came with her 'cause you couldn't hang with me. How come you didn't tell me you mixed music, dude? It's awesome."

"I don't care what you think about it!" Edd shouts, "I don't care what anybody thinks about it, that's the fucking point!"

Kevin holds up his hands and says back, "Dude, calm the fuck down. I was trying to pay a goddamn compliment, you know."

"I. Do not. _Care_," Edd emphasizes, "This is supposed to be private. It's the one place that I am able to –"

Beside them, they hear a cough, and both Edd and Kevin turn to the perpetrator, a stocky blond dude. He has Edd's CD in his hand, and holds it out when they look at him. He says, "Hey, uh, I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could get an autograph from Mad Scientist?"

Edd's shoulders slump and he answers, "Of course." He takes the CD from the guy and pats around his jeans' pockets. He pulls out a sharpie.

The blond dude goes on, "Hey, so, I'm friends with Gillian, you know, from The Warriors 5? She said she tried to set you up with a chick and you said you didn't swing this way. I know it's kinda awkward, but she said I'd probably like you, so – I dunno, you wanna go out sometime?"

Edd looks up from the now-signed Mad Scientist album like a deer in headlights and hands it back to the dude. He cocks his head and starts to say something –

But Kevin interrupts, "No, he doesn't. He's dating me, fuckface, get a life."

"Kevin, for the love of all that is good and holy," Edd snaps.

The blond guy holds up his hands and says, "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to intrude."

Kevin has never seen somebody disappear so fast in his life.

"Good fucking riddance," he says to the guy's back.

And then something hits him in the chest. It's…a rock. A small one, but a rock nonetheless. Edd has his hands on his hips, an scowl deep on his face. He shouts, "How fucking dare you, Kevin. Really! How dare you. I don't _belong_ to you, and even if I did have poor enough judgment to become romantically entangled with you, what you said was just rude. Out of line, completely. You – you come here, you invade my privacy – you. I am so _angry_."

"Come on, man, you think that dude would wanna be with a guy that's already messing with somebody else?" Kevin says back.

"I told you that I could terminate our agreement whenever I wanted," Edd says back, "I told you that. And were I to find a significant other, that is exactly what I would do. You have absolutely no right to tell me that I couldn't. I'm allowed to want romance in my life. I'm allowed!"

"You have romance in your life," Kevin retorts.

"No, Kevin, I do not. What we have is not _romance_," Edd corrects, "There is nothing remotely romantic about it. We kiss, we touch, and we may even watch Game of Thrones together, but that is not romance. What we have is an arrangement."

And now Kevin's angry.

"Hey, fuck you," Kevin snaps, "What the hell do you call these?" he points to his hickeys, and then curls his fingers into tight fists at his sides.

"Those are hickeys, Kevin," Edd says, "Not romance."

And with Kevin teetering on the edge, that sends him over. He seizes Edd by the front of his shirt and hauls him forward, covering Edd's mouth with his own. He presses his tongue inside his mouth and pushes him back against the Prius, hands up under his shirt.

Kevin reaches down into the pocket of Edd's jeans and, with a little shuffling, pulls out a car key. He opens the doors and yanks open the back door. He shoves Edd down onto the seat and climbs on top of him, slamming the door behind them both. It's cramped – they're both tall, and their long limbs are crunched up.

"Stop it," Edd says.

"Fuck you," Kevin says back, and kisses him. He kisses long and hard, and moves to Edd's jaw and throat, leaving the same kind of hickeys that Edd left on him on a few days before. He's furious at Edd, and he's hard as a stone in his jeans, and he wants to prove himself – though he has no fucking clue what he's proving, just that he's proving it.

Kevin's hand moves to the fly of Edd's jeans and he tears it open, reaching inside. Good, Edd's hard too. That'll show him.

"I demand that you stop it this instant," Edd complains.

Kevin pulls Edd's cock out of his jeans and underwear.

Kevin throws caution to the wind and -

"Cease this right – _ahh_," Edd relaxes.

– puts his mouth on it.

Oh man, that is weird. Not bad weird, but definitely weird. He pulls up and looks back at Edd. He doesn't look quite as mad as before, so he ducks back down and does it again. This time, he licks a long strip up the underside. He delights in the noise that tears out of Edd's throat.

"Kevin, we-we're in a parking lot," Edd protests.

"You love it," Kevin snaps back, and sucks the head of his cock into his mouth. He goes on and swallows down more, and a little bit more. This is more difficult than he thought it would be, but he's still in the middle of proving himself right.

And then he gags. He pulls off, coughing.

"You don't have to," Edd says.

"Shut up," Kevin says, and tries again.

Same result.

Okay, he'll just use his mouth _and_ hands. He sucks and licks, and borrows a little from Edd – humming – and touches him, too, palming and stroking along with the movement of his mouth. Below him, Edd squirms and moans. His bony fingers tangle in Kevin's red hair, urging him to go faster and work harder. He does both, though clumsily and not as well as he wishes that he could.

How the fuck was Edd so good at this, and how come he isn't?

He'll just make up for it with enthusiasm.

Edd lifts his hips to meet each of Kevin's licks and touches. He whines and whimpers. Kevin tries not to smile around Edd's erection and goes quicker.

With a cry, Edd comes.

"Goddamnit, Double D, I warn you when I'm about to come," Kevin says. He tugs at his sleeve and wipes come off of his mouth, "It's all over my fucking face."

Edd laughs. A sleepy, deep laugh.

"It's not funny, and you're an asshole," Kevin says, mopping his face. It's about as good as he can get, it seems.

Edd laughs again, but pulls his underwear and jeans back up.

"At least you're laughing," Kevin mutters.

"I may be laughing, but I'm still furious with you," Edd says. He doesn't _sound_ furious.

Kevin says, "Good, you can be furious in my bedroom. C'mon, let's get your shit in the car."

**xxx**

**Thank you all & I hope you enjoyed!**


	8. Tonight in this Town

**Chapter Track: City of Angels – The Distillers **

Kevin's dad takes him to get his cast removed on a Friday afternoon. Dr. Hansen examines him beforehand and asks him if he has any pain, pressing in places. Thankfully, she doesn't send him to get another x-ray, and instead gets straight to the saw. It tickles a little as the cast comes off.

God, he hates the big reveal. He's had many broken limbs in his seventeen years of life, and they all look nasty when the cast comes off. His leg is pale, his skin is dry, and his muscles less prominent than they used to be from disuse. Ah well – at least he'll be back in order by the time that baseball season rolls around. Until then, he has nothing to worry about.

Dr. Hansen feels around the healed limb with occasional, "Does this hurt?" questions. But nothing does, thank Christ, because Kevin doesn't know if he could stand being put back in another cast.

"All right, Kevin, I think you're all good to go," Dr. Hansen says, "I want to schedule a follow-up appointment, do you have any days that are good for you in a couple of weeks or so?"

Kevin and his dad get the appointment scheduled, and while his dad takes care of paperwork and payment stuff, Kevin lifts up the leg of his loose jeans and snaps a quick picture of his leg. He sends it to Nazz first with a _hey guess wat i just did_, and then to Edd, with a _check it out no more pity hand jobs from u i guess. _

As he's climbing into the passenger's seat of his dad's truck, Double D's response comes first, sooner than expected.

_Congratulations – I have a paper I want to finish tonight, but perhaps tomorrow I can give you a celebratory handjob instead._

Kevin smiles a little and replies, _u sure no how 2 seduce a dude. _

When they arrive safely back in their cul-de-sac, Nazz's text appears: _Gnarly it looks nasty you wanna get plastered and celebrate the use of your leg again?_

_hell yes_, Kevin replies.

Nazz arrives at his house only a handful of minutes later, decked out for winter in a thick black and white plaid coat and bright turquoise skinny jeans. Kevin shrugs on his leather coat, glad to be back in the tighter jeans that he prefers to wear. He has his work boots on, since he needs looser shoes to contain his slightly-swollen foot.

Outside, it's cold enough that their breath condenses and clouds in front of them on the short walk to the car. Kevin rubs his hands together before he loads into the car and asks, "So where are we headed?"

"Got some friends downtown that can get us some booze and are great to party with," Nazz says.

"All right," Kevin nods, and buckles himself in, "Let's get fucked up."

Nazz drives them to an apartment building at the heart of the city, a tall, brick structure graffitied and surrounded by discarded gum and cigarette butts. She buzzes for one of the apartments near the top of the building – at least there's an elevator, because Kevin doesn't know that he could walk up seven flights of stairs on his freshly healed leg.

The apartment they're let into is some punky-hipster haven, filled with colorful paintings and an enormous record collection. Her friends all have hair of varied interesting colors: purple, blue and green, and fire engine red. They're all introduced to him as nicknames (Amazing, Chuckie N, and Buzz). Kevin, as usual, feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb, a jock among strangers, but they all welcome him and sit him down. Amazing pours him a shot of tequila and he tips it down, happy to have alcohol to loosen him up and make him more comfortable.

Nazz has a single beer, but assures Kevin that's all she's doing, since she has to transport them back home.

And Kevin starts to get buzzed, and then tipsy.

And then he's telling them all his fucking life story, because why not?

"I'm sorta seeing this guy, right? And he's like, way fucking smarter than me, and he gave me this _huge_ book and I'm only like, halfway through, but there's this chick in that's my favorite character, you know? And I dunno, I love it, like super hard," Kevin goes on, "I already know what's gonna happen 'cause he lent me the show, too. Man, that kid, he's – he's something else."

"He mixes music," Nazz puts in, "We didn't know, but like, we went to one of his shows and it was really awesome."

"Sounds like you're a lucky guy," Buzz nods.

Kevin agrees, "Yeah. Yeah, you know, I am. He's a dickhead and kind of stuck up but I like him, and like, I wish there was a way I could like – prove it, you know."

"You could get a tattoo," suggests Amazing.

And naturally, being that Kevin is four shots, two beers, and a fruity mixed drink into his stupor, he exclaims, "That's a fucking awesome idea!"

Which is how they end up stumbling down the block, laughing and chatting, into the tattoo parlor of a friend of a friend of a friend. It's small but it smells clean – though they don't ask Kevin for his ID or have him sign anything. He babbles about what he wants, going on about Daenerys and Khal Drogo and Game of Thrones and Double D. The artist, a bearded guy that looks a little like a younger version of Kevin's dad, nods and dives in.

It stings, but Kevin doesn't focus on that. He focuses on rambling to Nazz and her friends and says, "He has things in jars in his room. I thought it was weird but now it's kind of endearing. But maybe still a little weird. I like it, though, it's like, it gets me off? I don't even fucking know, man."

Nazz squeezes his hand and says, "Kev, you are _really _drunk."

"I am not," he says, and laughs like she's told the greatest joke in the world, "You know what I just realized, Nazz? Double D is really _pig-headed_. Get it? 'Cause he has a pig in a jar."

"Oh my God," is all that Nazz says, and makes a face. Whatever, Kevin thought it was clever.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when the tattoo artist tells him that he's done, just that he had a couple more beers in the process and things are starting to go a little shaky in his vision. Nazz has to help him out of the chair and to the mirror to look at his shoulder. Kevin looks over the result and tries to whistle, but fails. Instead, he remarks, "_Cool_."

"Looks pretty sweet, but maybe we should get you home, huh?" Nazz says, and pats his arm.

"I'm celebrat-" Kevin hiccups, "I'm celebrating my new leg, Nazz, don't rain on my parade."

"I got work early tomorrow, guys," pipes up Chuckie N, "Probably time to call it night."

Kevin hiccups again. He leans on Nazz on their way back to the apartment building, which is awkward at his tall height and her less-than-tall stature. But she tolerates it, and even better, gives him a couple laughs at his bad jokes.

Before they can get into her car, Kevin stumbles, his stomach knotted up and angry, and he throws up onto the sidewalk, leaving a goopy, liquid mess in his wake.

"Okay, cowboy," Nazz says, "I think you need to get to bed."

"Never," Kevin says back, and jumps up onto the hood of her car. He pulls out the sides of his leather jacket like wings and declares, "I am the night!" and then hiccups, loudly.

"Hey, moron, how about you get off my car before you break your leg again?" Nazz calls. She has to help him down and herd him into his seat, buckling him in. His tattoo makes everything against his back feel strange, like his sense of touch is amplified tenfold on the sensitive area.

No sooner are they on the highway than Kevin falls asleep, slumped over with his cheek pressed against the cool glass of the window. He doesn't wake until Nazz shakes him gently awake and says, "Hey, Kev, we're home. You want me to help you out?"

"I can do it," he says, but trips on his way out of the car, so Nazz helps him inside and up the stairs to his room. She takes off his jacket and pulls his blanket over him before saying, "Have a nice hangover tomorrow."

"Will do, Nazz," Kevin mumbles, and then, happily, he falls asleep again, face down on his bed, still dressed, and very, very drunk.

**xxx**

At one o'clock on Saturday, Edd heads across the street to Kevin's house. He walks with a little anticipation. While he wouldn't say that he _likes_ Kevin, he certainly has become accustomed to him at least, and doesn't feel that the time spent together is a waste. It gives him time to relax, and time away from the stresses of the rest of his life – even if Kevin does like to argue with him about the most inane things.

Edd strolls in without knocking as Kevin has given him leave to do, and heads upstairs.

On his bed, Kevin is face-down, and still fast asleep, snoring like motorboat into his pillow. Edd takes off his shoes and coat and sets each aside before he strides across the carpet and sits beside Kevin.

"Goodness gracious, what is _that_?" he exclaims. He'd intended on gently shaking Kevin awake, but there's – there is plastic over his shoulder, underneath the strap of his white muscle shirt. A wound? No, much worse: a _tattoo._

"Ughh," Kevin groans from the bed, and puts his hands over his ears, "Do you have to be so fucking loud, Edd? What the fuck time is it?"

"It's one in the afternoon. Are you hungover?" Edd demands.

"Yeah…prolly…got drunk with Nazz last night," Kevin mutters.

When Kevin finally glances up to Edd, he looks like a mess. His red-rimmed eyes have shadows stained beneath them, he needs to shave badly, and he looks exhausted. He remarks, "Man, my back itches. Ah, shit, I'm gonna barf. Help me to the can."

Edd frantically scrambles into action and grabs Kevin's waist. He directs Kevin across the hall, where Kevin falls to his knees and vomits into the toilet.

"This is really disgusting," Edd says.

"Fuck you," Kevin says back, into the toilet bowl.

"I'll – I'll fetch you some aspirin," Edd says, and excuses himself. He's cured Eddy of many hangovers, and with the amount that Kevin seems to drink, he's certain he'll be able to find everything he needs. He sprints downstairs and searches the kitchen cabinets for what he needs.

"Hey, kid, you lookin' for something?"

Double D jumps about a foot off of the ground, and turns to see Kevin's father behind him. He turns pink and manages, "Uh, Kevin is – is indisposed."

"Yeah, kid came home trashed," he replies, "Painkillers are above the microwave, glasses are next to the fridge, and he'll probably want some coffee." He sticks his thumb out behind him to the coffee maker, where a can of mediocre coffee grounds sits beside it.

"Um," Edd says, "Thank you, sir."

Kevin's dad just stares at him for a long second, looking him up and down from his ironed thermal shirt, to his pressed jeans, to his socks with astronauts printed on them in a neat pattern. At last, he says, "Yeah, no problem, kid."

"We, uh, we were supposed to work on a project together," Edd explains, stupidly, though he's bad at lying and hates doing it. Kevin's dad does not reply to this, and instead saunters to the living room, where he slouches on the couch and switches on the television.

Kevin is back in his room when Edd returns, holding his curative items on a plastic tray that he found stuffed underneath the sink. It looks like a lunch tray from their school, but he doesn't remark upon it as he places it on Kevin's bedside table. He says, "There you go. Coffee, and some aspirin and water."

"Thanks," grunts Kevin. He downs the pills with a long swig of water, and goes for the coffee a moment later, drinking in quick swallows though the liquid must be hot enough to burn. When he sets the half-drunk mug aside, he says, "I have a tattoo, don't I."

"Yes. Yes you do," Edd says, "Do you want me to take a look at it?"

"Yeah, I think – um, I don't remember what I'm supposed to do to take care of it," Kevin answers.

Edd rolls his eyes. He remembers this routine when Eddy called both he and Ed to his house on a Wednesday evening last year, to announce that he had gotten a tattoo with his older brother. It was unfortunately placed, right across his lower back like a 'tramp stamp,' or whatever the slang is – a car, with the words _HOT ROD_ surrounded by flames. It was awful, and continues to be awful, and Eddy didn't have a clue how he was supposed to tend to it.

Naturally, Edd did the research for him and provided all the necessary supplies.

"Well," Edd says, we should begin by taking the plastic off of it and washing it, "Here, I'll help. Come on."

Kevin swipes his coffee from the bedside table and pads along behind Edd. He obeys when Edd instructs him to put the toilet seat down and sit there, and waits while Edd fishes through the bathroom cabinets. He finds what he needs, thankfully, an unscented bar of soap. Kevin pulls his muscle shirt up over his head and turns so Edd can peel away the wrapping.

"Oh," Edd says, when he reveals the piece underneath.

"What?" Kevin demands, "Is it ugly? What did I do?"

"It's a dragon," Edd says, "And decently drawn, as well. It says _my sun-and-stars_ below it, like Daenerys calls Khal Drogo in Game of Thrones."

Kevin turns to look at Edd, and his face is bright red. He asks, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Edd says, "Who is it for?"

Kevin coughs and answers, "I don't remember."

"Hmm," Edd hums to that, "Perhaps you should go easier on the alcohol, next time?" He wets the bar of soap under the bathroom sink, and touches it to Kevin's back, scrubbing away ink residue and sweat. He repeats the process until nothing remains but the tattoo over the pink, swollen skin, and dabs it dry with a towel. He asks, "Do you have any lotion? Unscented is ideal."

"Uh, yeah, actually," Kevin says, "I got some for my leg yesterday on the way back from the hospital."

"Excellent," Edd nods.

They return to Kevin's bedroom, where Edd instructs Kevin to lie on his stomach. He sits aside Kevin's back and pumps lotion into his hand. He massages it into Kevin's irritated, inked skin until he's satisfied with the result, and says, "You should apply that lotion a couple times every day. I can help when I see you, if you'd like. Vitamin E is also good for new tattoos, and I have some Vitamin E oil at home that I can bring you."

"Aw yeah, oil me up, dork," Kevin jokes from under him.

Edd blushes, "Really, Kevin. That isn't funny."

"It is too, and you're smiling, so fuck you," Kevin says.

Edd snorts, and Kevin chuckles into his pillow. For a moment, they just smile at each other. It's strange, and sends snakes twisting inside Edd's belly. The feeling is uncomfortable, and he definitely does not like it.

"So," Kevin says, "How about that handjob?"

"With your dad home?" Double D whispers back, glancing at Kevin's bedroom door, which is partially ajar.

"He doesn't give a shit what I do," Kevin mutters.

"I know the feeling," Edd says, before he can stop himself.

"Yeah?" Kevin says. His brows sweep together, and he lifts his hand to rub his palm over Edd's lower back.

Whether or not Edd meant to reveal that, it's out now. So he says, "My parents, you know. They're always gone. Eddy likes to talk about how 'awesome' it is that they're never around, and how I can do anything I please, but truthfully, sometimes it feels less like they don't care about what I do, and more like they don't care about _me_." He lets that sentence die on his tongue, and wonders from the intense look on Kevin's face if he shouldn't have said anything at all. Typically, that's what people tend to prefer. They don't want to hear about your woes. They want to pretend like things are never wrong. And so Edd does that for everybody. He pretends.

"C'mere, dork," Kevin finally says, and pulls Edd down to lie next to him. Kevin smooths back Edd's dark hair and kisses him. When they separate, Kevin leans his forehead against Edd's and closes his eyes.

Edd doesn't like this. His throat is clogged up and his heart hurts. It feels like an illness, though he knows that it isn't. He pulls back and says, "Let me lock the door, and I can give you your handjob, as promised." He stands and crosses the room, pressing the door closed behind him and clicking it locked.

Edd sits beside Kevin and undoes the fly of his jeans. He pulls them off of Kevin's legs, and then settles on his side on Kevin's right. He closes his hand over Kevin's cock in his underwear and starts to stroke. He loves the feeling of Kevin getting hard in his palm. As soon as Kevin's breath hitches and he lets out a soft moan, Edd pulls off his boxers, leaving Kevin naked beside him. And at his disposal. It's perfect.

Kevin leans his forehead into Edd's left arm. He whimpers, and encourages Edd to work his fingers more diligently, sweeping over all the sensitive places that he's come to learn and know on Kevin's body, lingering in some and denying others.

When Edd touches Kevin in just the right way, Kevin lets out a long, satisfied sigh and mumbles into Edd's arm, "Feels so good, baby."

Baby?

"Baby?" echoes Edd.

Kevin tenses and dares a glance up at Edd. He says, "Uh. Sorry. It just kind of – slipped out."

"I'm not your 'baby,'" Edd says to him.

"I know, I know," Kevin says, "I'm sorry."

"I'm your friend, though," Edd finally says.

"Wait – what. I thought you said we weren't friends," Kevin says.

"There are only so many times a man can make you orgasm before you can't get away with not calling him your friend," Edd replies, sagely.

"Good to know I got to that number, then," Kevin tells him, "You just gonna sit there or are you gonna finish what you started, dickhead?"

Edd's cheeks turn pink and he settles back into what he was doing, making Kevin feel good, stroking over him and palming and teasing. Kevin starts to lift his hips to lean into the touch, and Edd quickens his pace. He knows Kevin is close. He can feel it, see it – he's become familiar with the way Kevin's body writhes and twists when it's on the brink.

Kevin grabs Edd and buries his face in Edd's shirt when he comes. He lets out a hoarse groan before flops back onto his pillow, eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy with satisfaction. Edd can hardly believe how much he revels in each time he puts that expression on Kevin's face. It makes something bubble up in him that he didn't know he had, like hot soda prickling his insides. He scoops Kevin's face in his hands and kisses him. Kevin tastes like cheap coffee.

Kevin loops his arm around Edd's skinny shoulders, and brings Edd to settle with his head against Kevin's chest. He can hear Kevin's heartbeat, _thump-a-thump-a-thump-_ing for each breath that rattles his ribcage.

When they started this whole thing almost three months ago, Edd didn't expect that it would ever become like this. He didn't think he'd ever lie with his head against Kevin's chest and think about how he never wants to leave that place, how he could sit and enjoy Kevin's company forever. It's a disturbing revelation to know that he feels this way.

Somehow he's managed to avoid feeling like this. Until now. He always figured he could set aside _romance_, or whatever one cares to call it, until after college and after finding a stable job and having his life in order.

Books always told him, though, that romance isn't orderly.

How is it that books are so seldom wrong?

**xxx**

**Feelings ahoy! ;D Thank you all again for your continued support. **


	9. Push Me

**Chapter Track: Satisfaction – Benny Benassi**

Christmas comes, and for a brief time, Edd feels less lonely and more like a family: his parents come home bearing gifts, though he doesn't care about the presents as much as he cares about seeing his mom and dad. On Christmas morning, they brew coffee that they brought back from Guatemala, and share peppermint bark from someplace in Europe.

Double D understands that his parents' work takes them around the world and doesn't leave an exceptional amount of room for them to relax at home and tend to family matters. Of course, this means that when they _do_ come that Edd doesn't want to discuss anything negative or controversial – the bullies at school, his sexuality, his befuddlement over romantic feelings for someone that he didn't even like four months before – instead, he tells them how well he's doing in school, and that's he a contender for the place of valedictorian when they graduate in May.

When he opens his gifts, he finds a state of the art microscope, new mounted insects for his collection, and other knickknacks from around the globe – each one will find a special place in his bedroom just for them, dusted and labeled.

Winter break comes to end, though, as all good things do. Though his parents have already gone, Edd returns to school with a renewed sense of courage. The environment at school changes for a just a small while after Christmas – people are just excited to see their friends again, and excited to show off the gifts they received and swap stories about their holidays.

Edd doesn't participate in the last two, but does feel content to sit with Ed and Eddy at lunchtime and listen to Eddy regale them with exciting tales of what happened over the holidays. He has on a new sweatshirt and pristine new shoes, which he points to and nudges Double D with a, "New and clean enough to be on your carpet, huh Sockhead?"

Edd replies, "Eddy, no matter how clean your shoes are, they will never be allowed on my carpet."

Eddy rolls his eyes and launches into a story about the girl that his brother brought home, a story that Double D mostly ignores. Instead, he lets Ed show him some of his new comic books – he explains the plot of each one to Double D in great depth, and it puts a little smile on his face. Ed's passions can sometimes seem frivolous, but at heart so see something as simple as a stack of comics make Ed light up like a Christmas tree is a marvelous thing.

Only then, when Edd glances up, he sees Kevin staring from across the cafeteria. He's sitting with Nazz and a handful of his athlete friends, lunch already eaten in front of him. When he catches Edd's eye, he smiles.

Edd smiles back, because Kevin's started to make him do that – and Kevin winks.

It sparks a blaze low in his belly, and has him take out his phone just so he can ask, _We're on for after school, correct?_

Kevin replies, _course dork_, and then, a few seconds later, _how was ur christmas. _

Edd knows conversations like this lay far beyond the perimeters he set for their arrangement, but since he's already decided that they're friends, he answers, _Wonderful, and how was yours_?

_okay i guess, same old_, Kevin answers.

Edd decides to drop it at that – he loves Christmas, but he knows it isn't the same for everybody that celebrates it. And Kevin, frankly, seemed less enthusiastic about the holiday as soon as his mother left their family. Even before they were close, Edd had noticed the change. Kevin put on a face for people, and the façade he built that year was one that Edd imagines took a great deal of energy to keep up.

A stack of homework assignments joins Double D on the way home. He texts Kevin to tell him that he'll be later, and that he wants to finish his work before. Kevin teases him, as usual, but afterward sends _lookin forward to seein u_. Such a text shouldn't make his heart beat the way that it does, but Edd smiles the entire way through completing his homework and finishing a couple of chores.

The sound of the dishwasher running hums in the air as Edd slips out of his house. It's a chilly night, the kind that makes a person long for the warmth of other people. It makes him grateful to know that he has Kevin around, his friend, and sort-of-lover. Whatever they are, Double D has come to appreciate it more than he ever thought he could.

Kevin opens the door when Edd knocks. He yanks him in and kisses him immediately, greeting, "Good to see you, dork. My dad's out drinking with some buddies and won't be back 'til late so we got lots of time."

Edd loops his arms around Kevin's waist and kisses him back.

"You wanna drink or anything?" asks Kevin, "We got, uh. Beer. Orange juice. No tea, though. I know you like that stuff."

"I'm all right," Edd replies, "What are you in the mood for this evening? I could…perform oral, if you wanted. Or we could just touch."

"Dunno, you gotta preference?" Kevin lowers his hands and sinks them into the back pockets of Edd's jeans. He squeezes and grins, his light eyes crinkling at the corners with the weight of the smile. Double D's heart begins to race again, so quickly it's as though he's run miles to be right where he's standing. It hurts, and the only way to quench it is to be closer to Kevin. He presses into Kevin's chest and puts his lips against Kevin's throat. He lingers there, kissing and nipping until he knows Kevin will have a new hickey. He gets a thrill out of seeing the hickeys he made on Kevin's skin, above the collars of his t-shirts, where everyone can see them.

"That didn't really answer the question," Kevin murmurs. Edd can feel his erection pressed up against him, and a shiver goes through him.

In the end they wind up on Kevin's couch, missing most of their clothing but not all, and doing a little of everything. It's experimental, perhaps, for both of them. Kevin sometimes enjoys taking their trysts at a slower pace, stroking and feeling over all the places in Double D's body until he finds the spots that make Edd tick. And Edd, naturally, enjoys the same.

Edd loves the noises that Kevin makes when he runs his hands down his back, the soft sounds of need that bubble up at the back of his throat and burst out hoarsely even when he tries to hold them back. He loves touching all of Kevin's scars. He finds new little nicks and puckers of skin and always wants to know the story behind each one – Kevin recalls all of them. _Got in a fistfight. Fell off my bike. Took a bad dare. _

His birthmark, too, is another beauty, spreading over his skin like a coffee stain, from his hipbone to the hair between his legs to the top of his thigh.

When they both come, they lie on the couch tangled together. Edd is still in his shirt, though Kevin's big hand is underneath it, stroking over his belly.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, and tugs at the hem of Edd's yellow t-shirt.

"Why would you want to do that?" asks Edd, shifting uncomfortably.

"I just wanna look at you," Kevin says, "but I get it, you don't have to."

Edd licks his lips and sits up. He pulls his shift over his head and drapes it over the arm of the couch. Kevin half-smiles and pulls Edd back toward him. He thumbs over his skin and kneads his fingers into Edd's back.

"How come you don't like how you look, huh?" Kevin asks.

"Is that question genuine or rhetorical?" asks Edd. He watches Kevin stroke his thumbs over his nipples and kiss over the indents of his ribs.

"For real," Kevin says against Edd's skin.

Edd shrugs and replies, "I'm really rather skinny. I have acne. My nose is larger than average."

"You're like, really fucking hard on yourself," Kevin says. He pulls Edd toward him and kisses his lips. He says, "You know, man, I like how you look."

"Flattery will not get you anywhere with me, I assure you," Edd snips back.

"It's not flattery, you big dick," Kevin says, "I'm just telling the truth. I like your nose and your skinny ass. Gets me all hot and bothered, you know."

Edd makes a face and responds, "You are ridiculous."

"M'not," Kevin says back, and kisses Edd's lips again. He reaches down and cups Edd's ass in his hands, hitching their bodies together to deepen the kiss. Kevin is solid against him, his skin warm and muscles strong as he grips and kneads Edd's body. When Kevin shifts back, Double D is sated and too content to argue anymore. Instead, he leans his head in Kevin's chest and closes his eyes. He could fall asleep here, if he let himself. But he won't, and he knows that he won't.

"Mm," Kevin sighs against him, and rubs a hand over Edd's spine, "Should probably get up. Let me Febreze the couch and we can make out some more in my room."

This is where Double D used to put himself back together and return home, where he'd fall asleep with a new book in his hands and a half-drunk mug of tea beside him. He's always reluctant to say goodbye now, and so while he replaces his clothes on his body, he lingers, watching Kevin shimmy back into his t-shirt, and spraying the couch so it doesn't smell like them anymore.

"Did you receive anything interesting during the holidays?" asks Edd, as he walks behind Kevin upstairs and to his room.

"Sorta," Kevin shrugs, "Got a card from my mom."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Sorta," Kevin repeats, "Here, lemme show you."

Edd sits on Kevin's desk chair while Kevin rummages in his closet, reaching up to the highest shelf. He pulls down an old shoebox and sets it in Edd's lap. Edd pulls the lid off. There are cards, lots of cards, for every holiday. The one on the top of the mess is a Christmas card, with an ice-skating penguin on the front of his. The script font inside reads _Hope your holidays are super cool!_ and then neat print below that says, _from, Mom_.

From?

Edd opens another card, an Easter card, and sees _from, Mom_ again. And in the next card, and in the next.

"Do they all say that?" he asks.

Kevin nods. He takes the shoebox from Edd's lap and replaces the lid. As he slides it back into place on its shelf. He runs both hands through his hair and gives a long, sad-sounding exhale before explaining, "I dunno why she left, you know. But I did always think she wanted a kid that was smart. Like you."

"You're incredibly smart," Edd defends immediately.

"Not like you are," Kevin replies, "I'm no dummy but I'm no Double D either."

"You are intelligent in ways that I am not, though," Edd insists, "You're socially intelligent, and I'm horrible and awkward and struggle with human interaction on a daily basis. You don't have that problem."

"Ehhh," Kevin says back. He looks like he wants to say something more, but doesn't. Instead, he crosses the room to his bed and stretches out on it, resting his head on his hands. His shirt lifts and reveals a strip of tan skin, just enough to make Edd feel hypnotized. He joins Kevin.

"You _are_ smart," Edd defends, and bends over to kiss Kevin.

Kevin kisses back and runs his fingers through Edd's black hair. He says, "Kinda like how you're attractive, huh?"

"I don't understand why you're so insistent that I believe that," he mutters.

"Probably 'cause it's true, dipshit," Kevin replies.

Edd doesn't reply. It doesn't seem they'll agree on this point. Instead, he pipes up, "I have a show on Saturday. I thought…if you wanted to, you could come. Perhaps." He's been thinking about this lately. Whether or not Double D planned on it, Kevin knows about his Mad Scientist alter ego. He knows about Edd's music. And he likes it, he says.

"A Mad Scientist show?" asks Kevin.

"Yes," confirms Edd.

"I thought that you didn't want me up in that part of your shit," Kevin says.

Edd says, "Well…I may have changed my mind. You're already aware of what I do, so I figure there's no gain in barring you from attending the shows. Although I must insist that you not discuss my identity, please."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem, dork," Kevin sits up, and goes on, "I'll come, sure."

"Cool," is all that Edd says back, but warmth spreads through him, warmth that he's becoming all-too familiar with. He knows the change in temperature is due to an unfortunate fondness for Kevin, and he strives not to indulge it if he remembers to do so, but right now he just wants to kiss him. So he does, he kisses Kevin, and Kevin kisses back, and he lets that warmth consume him.

**xxx**

Tonight Edd opens for pop punk band, a group he knows is swinging up in popularity. His presence tonight may very well increase his own notoriety, which is both exhilarating and terrifying all at once. He lounges with the band before he has to arrange his things on the stage. The drummer, a young man whose skinny body rivals Edd's own, has a BA in Biology, and excitedly chats with Edd about his degree and modern advances in the field until a stage hand motions for Edd and says, "All right, Mad Scientist, let's get you started."

Edd nods and slips his goggles and surgical mask into place. He sets up his equipment in good time, trying not to concentrate on how many people sprawl out in the venue before him. It's a lot more than he's ever seen before, but he knows as soon as the lighting shifts they'll be hidden and he'll be fine. But his photographic memory curses him in this case, and he knows he'll remember every face he sees before the lights go out.

And then his eyes fall on a familiar one. Kevin stands front and center – he cups his hands around his mouth and cheers. Underneath his surgical mask, Edd smiles. His chest aches and his limbs tingle and goodness, that cheer makes him feel things that he wishes he wouldn't. But he loves those feelings, too, just as much as he resents them.

The lights dim, and the stage glows green.

"I'm Mad Scientist," Edd announces, "and welcome to my laboratory."

He jumps into his song, and the crowd cheers.

He has a new song to play tonight, one with lyrics to sing – or speak, rather, with his distorted voice. Still, it's more daring than his others. And he wrote it about Kevin. It's sexual, with a thick beat. When his third song comes to a close, he pauses. The crowd cheer again, and he says, "This next one is new – it's for a friend who's here in the crowd tonight."

He should most likely be embarrassed, but as Mad Scientist he never feels shame. What he does with Kevin makes him feel wonderful, some nights make him feel on top of the world, a magnificent high that he wishes he could hold onto always.

When his set ends, Edd packs up through adrenaline and elation. His bumps fists with the drummer from the other band, and pulls up his goggles on his forehead and his mask to his neck so that he can breathe. He laughs and grins as he pulls off his lab coat and folds it.

Outside in the back lot, Kevin is waiting for Edd.

"Hey," he says, "I liked your new song, dork."

"Mm," Edd says, and kisses him, "Serendipitous, since I wrote it about you."

"How about we head back home and I'll give you some more shit to write about?" Kevin suggests, his breath ghosting across Edd's lips.

"Sounds delightful," Double D agrees.

Kevin loads Edd's equipment trunk into the back of the Prius for Edd. When he climbs into the car he moves the seat down and slouches in before he buckles himself. Double D swears there is no longer car ride than one tainted with sexual tension and anticipation. He spends the entire trip up the highway craving Kevin's hands on him, wanting skin on skin and his fingers running through Kevin's red hair. How he loves that hair – all thick and soft and bright underneath his touch.

When Edd parks in his garage, Kevin leaps to action and helps him with his equipment trunk, dragging it up the stairs.

"Are you certain you should be doing that while you're still recuperating from your broken leg?" asks Edd.

"I've given it enough time, relax," says Kevin. He kicks off his red converse outside of Edd's bedroom door and pushes it open. Double D straightens his shoes and follows.

He instructs, "It goes in my closet."

"Yeah, I saw the label," Kevin says. He pushes the trunk into its proper place and stands with a boyish grin plastered across his face. He grips Edd by the waist and pulls him forward, into a hard, heavy kiss.

When they break, Kevin pants, "Do you know how fuckin' bad I wanted to do that the whole way home?"

"I'm familiar," Edd smiles, and herds Kevin back onto his bed. He sits on top of him and stoops down to draw Kevin's lips into another bruising kiss. Their tongues tangle and Kevin moans when their growing erections rub together through their jeans. The friction sets the hairs on the back of Edd's neck on end.

"You," he breathes, "You are so _handsome_."

Kevin chuckles. He grips Edd's waist and flips them, dragging his body down Edd's with a mischievous grin, white teeth flashing in the lamplight. He presses kisses down Edd's neck and murmurs against his earlobe, "You are too," before nipping down on the sensitive skin. He teases a moan to tear from Edd's throat.

The clothes vanish garment by garment, and when Edd is completely naked – socks included – he doesn't even mind. He lets Kevin touch and kiss him and run his tongue over all the nooks and crannies that he's learned, and Kevin lets him do the same.

Afterward, they lean together on Edd's blanket (which he tells Kevin will promptly be visiting the washer). Kevin hooks his arm around Edd's shoulders and pulls him in, despite Edd's complaints that they're too sweaty to be pressed close together and presses kisses all over Edd's face: eyelids, nose, temples, jaw.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to get a rash from your facial hair," Edd tells him.

"Yeah, beard burn's less easy to explain than hickeys, huh?" Kevin laughs, and pauses to push another, gentler kiss to Edd's swollen lips. He adds more quietly, "Hey…I've been thinking about some shit."

"That's a fairly dangerous activity, Kevin," Edd warns solemnly.

Kevin eyes him, "You're a dick. Anyway – I was gonna ask you if we could um, try something."

"Now? I'm afraid you'll have to give me at least a half hour before I can attempt anything," Edd yawns.

"No, not now, Double Dork," Kevin says, and nudges him, "But like. Sometime. I've kinda been thinking about it a lot."

Edd sits up a little and urges, "All right, go on."

"I thought…well, maybe, if you're cool with it and everything, maybe we could like – um, do butt stuff?" Kevin flushes bright red all the way up to his ears and starts to gnaw on his lower lip.

"Are you asking me for anal sex?" Edd tentatively asks.

"Uh, yeah," Kevin scratches the back of his neck.

"We can certainly do that," Edd says, and rubs Kevin's upper arm, "I imagine it'll be your first time trying that, but I can coach you through it. I suppose that means there are basic precautions to take and matters to discuss. I'll need to purchase some condoms – are you allergic to latex?"

"No, but I'm allergic to pine nuts," Kevin answers.

"Fortunately, I have it on good authority that condoms are not made with pine nuts," Edd jokes, "Now, in general, I prefer to be on bottom, is that what you would be most comfortable with?"

"Um," Kevin keeps chewing his lip, "How come you know that's what you like?"

"Because I've engaged in sexual intercourse before," Edd says, "Try not to look shocked."

"I actually – well. Uh, I guess, I was worried – like, I thought maybe I might hurt you if I tried being on top first – um. I dunno. God, this is fucking awkward," Kevin rubs his hands over his face and then stares at the ceiling, "I guess I'd rather try, uh. Being on bottom for the first time. 'Cause, um. I don't want to fuck anything up. But if that's not what you want –"

"It's all right, Kevin," Double D assures him, "I like both. We can do what you want for this time."

"Okay," Kevin says, "You sure?"

"Absolutely," Edd responds.

Kevin relaxes a little and Edd leans over to kiss him. He says, "Let me get these sheets in the wash."

"Uh, can I stay for a while?" asks Kevin.

"If you'd like," Edd shrugs, "I didn't have any thrilling plans for the evening, though. I intended on watching Mythbusters."

Kevin perks up, "I like Mythbusters."

"Excellent," Edd says as he stands. He pulls on a fresh pair of briefs from his dresser and then a soft pair of pajama pants before herds Kevin off of his bed and removes the bedding, bunching it together in his arms to carry it down to their laundry room. He asks as Kevin dresses, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Sure, why the hell not?"

**xxx**

**Thank you all for reading, you lovely KevEdd fans, you. **


	10. I Promise You

**Chapter Track: Blue Moon – Moby **

Edd and Kevin set aside the following Sunday for their plans. Edd purchases condoms and lubricant, which he stores in a new box labeled discreetly as _Kevin_. He inspects and tidies his bedroom, fitting his bed with fresh sheets and plugging an air freshener into an outlet across the room. He instructs Kevin to come around the back, though when he hears the knock at the sliding glass door downstairs, Edd about jumps out of his skin.

Despite a morning of meditation and preparation, the nerves still set his limbs tingling. When he opens the door, Kevin slips in, smiling. He pulls his red baseball hat off of his head and sets it on the kitchen table, running a hand through his hair. He lets out a breath and remarks, "It's snowing out there."

"I saw," Edd replies.

For a moment, they stare at each other, each one waiting for the other to make a move. Kevin, finally, makes it first. He leans into Edd's lips and tangles his big hands in Edd's dark hair. He tugs at it and Edd whimpers, biting down on Kevin's lower lip before he pulls back.

"You look nice," Kevin says.

Admittedly, Double D may have made more of an effort with his appearance. He ironed his jeans and a red button-up, and brushed his hair into a manageable fluff. He gnaws on his lip and replies, "Thank you…you too."

Kevin smells clean and is freshly-shaven. His shampoo smells tart but his the aroma of his soap is just like pine. Edd loves this scent, and leans down into Kevin's neck just to breathe it in and kiss the skin there. Though inevitably nervous, as one typically is with a new partner, Kevin's presence feels like a balm, his warmth and smell and the way his hands are stroking up and down Edd's spine – it makes him calmer, and surer that this is exactly what he would like to do with Kevin.

Kevin murmurs, "Do you have any fucking clue what I wanna do with you right now?"

"As we both are aware of this afternoon's agenda, I am fairly certain I am conscious of it, yes," Edd babbles.

Kevin grins, and the hands that stroked down his back lower down to his backside, where Kevin palms and squeezes. He tilts his head at the stairs and says, "C'mon, last one to your room is a rotten egg." He ducks and makes for the stairs.

Edd rushes after him and calls as he stomps up the staircase, "Please remember to take your shoes off, Kevin!"

When Edd enters his bedroom, panting, Kevin has dutifully left his converse beside the door, arranged neatly side by side. His boyish smile greets Double D, followed by a kiss, and he says, "Took you long enough, dork," and then more seriously, "Um – I've only ever done this stuff with girls, which you know…uh, yeah. I mean, I just. I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's quite all right," Edd reassures him (for what feels like at least the hundredth time), "Why don't you undress and lie down? I could perhaps – rub your shoulders, if that would help."

"That's real nice of you," Kevin says. He gets a twinkle in his eye, a sight that Edd has started to see a little more of whenever they're together. Perhaps it's just his mind pretending that Kevin could care for him as he has come to care for Kevin. But even if mutual affection is a fantasy, Edd doesn't think it will do him harm to indulge in it.

He watches Kevin removes his clothes, an act he's found to be impossibly erotic. The muscles of his back move under his skin as he pulls his shirt up over his head, dragon tattoo shifting, and his his long legs emerge from his jeans. When Kevin turns around, he reaches his hand into his boxers, touching himself with a filthy half-smile planted on his lips.

Edd's breath catches in his throat. He licks his lips and can't help but murmur, "You…are a perfect specimen."

"I appreciate that, Mad Scientist," Kevin says. He shifts his boxers down his hips and is then fully nude, body toned from his athletics, cock hard and flushed with blood, and that ridiculous smirk still plastered on his face. He winks at Edd before he lies on his bed, belly-down on the freshly laundered comforter.

And then Kevin watches Edd. He looks on as Edd undoes the buttons on his shirt one by one, and drapes it over the back of his desk chair. He starts to nibble on his lower lip when Edd slips out of his undershirt and folds it. And when Double D unbuttons his jeans and wiggles out of them, Kevin shifts on his side and reaches down to touch himself. Edd's throat goes dry, and his jeans pool on the carpet beneath his feet, forgotten.

He climbs on his bed and grips Kevin's wrist, tugging his hands away from himself. He says, "There'll be time enough for that later," and urges Kevin back onto his stomach. He straddles Kevin's back and presses his hands against his skin. Edd has read books on the art of massage, though seldom does he find a chance to utilize his knowledge. He kneads and presses and rolls, gentle with the still-recent ink over Kevin's shoulder blade. Below him, Kevin huffs and makes soft sounds of satisfaction.

"Now, Kevin," Edd says, "during one's first time receiving the, um –"

"Taking the dick," Kevin grunts, "It's cool, I know what I'm doing down here."

"Yes. Well. During the first time it's often painful and a man can lose his erection –"

"'Lose his erection'? You make it sound like my cock is gonna up and walk off my body," Kevin interrupts, again.

"Stop interrupting me," Edd snips, "Most men cannot maintain arousal during anal sex, so I'm going to make you come beforehand, is that acceptable? It will relax you."

"Mmkay," Kevin says.

Edd removes his hands from Kevin's hot skin and shifts them both. He instructs Kevin to sit on the edge of his mattress, and kneels between Kevin's legs on the floor. He grasps Kevin's hips in his long fingered hands, pressing kisses to the insides of his thighs. Right here, in this place between Kevin's legs, he has a scent distinctly his own, one that sets Double D on fire and makes him squirm with anticipation. A bead of precome shines at the head of Kevin's cock, and shyly he washes it away with his tongue. Kevin whines.

Kevin's hands find Edd's hair again, gripping hard enough for a little pain. The sensation excites Edd even more, and has him leaning into Kevin's erection to swallow down the head. He closes his eyes as he works Kevin down, relaxing his muscles and digging his nails into Kevin's sides. Kevin pulls up at Edd's long hair the further down that he presses his mouth. Edd whimpers around Kevin's cock.

Kevin thrusts up into his throat. Edd breathes harshly through his nose and guides Kevin into doing it again. For an instant, their eyes meet. Kevin looks as though he isn't sure he can do that again, and he stammers, "Are you – letting me fuck your mouth?"

Edd would nod were it not for his current position, so instead he blinks and hopes that his message gets across. Kevin grins and grips at Edd's hair, muttering, "You naughty shit," before he thrusts forward again. Edd clutches at him, moans muffled by Kevin's dick. He watches Kevin as he rocks his hips back and forth, in and out of Edd's mouth. His eyes are heavy-lidded, his lips parted, and every noise that emerges from his mouth is an accomplishment.

When Kevin whispers, "_Fuuuck_," Edd knows he can't wait to sink inside Kevin's body.

Kevin comes and Edd swallows. He smiles at Kevin when he pulls off of his cock. Kevin gives a hazy chuckle and a smile back. He stands and turns away, just long enough to take down his _Kevin_ box and remove the contents required: the bottle of lubricant (anal specific, as Edd is nothing if not attentive to detail), and a single condom. He places these on the mattress beside Kevin, and presses a kiss to his lips before he orders him to turn on his stomach again.

"Do you want me to tell you what I'm doing and coach you through it?" asks Edd.

"I've seen some porn, I know what comes next," Kevin assures him.

"Well, if you need anything, or you need me to stop, please say so," Edd says. He runs his hands down Kevin's back and presses another few kisses to the same places before sitting back up and retrieving the lubricant. Edd removes the plastic wrapping around the cap and peels away the safety seal underneath it. When he pops the bottle open, he feels Kevin shiver beneath him.

Edd pauses.

Kevin says, "Don't fucking stop, asshole. I'll tell you if I want you to."

"You could do with being a little nicer to me, as I'm the one that's going to be inside you," Edd testily replies.

"Quit stalling," Kevin says back, and Edd sighs.

Double D coats his fingers with a generous helping of lubricant. He runs his clean hand over the curve of Kevin's ass. The man does have a fine backside – that cannot be denied. Carefully, he touches the tip of his finger to Kevin's entrance, and slides it in. Kevin exhales the breath he'd been holding in. It takes Edd only a matter of seconds to press against Kevin's prostate, and when he does, Kevin lets out a long, surprised moan.

"The fuck?" he says.

"If you paid attention in anatomy class, you'd know precisely what I did," Edd answers.

"Good to know you know what you're doing up there," Kevin says, only to have his breath catch when Edd presses over his prostate again.

"As if I'd ever be as ignorant as to agree to _anything_ without doing my research first," Edd sniffs. He straightens his shoulders and pushes a second finger inside Kevin alongside the first. Kevin doesn't react, so Edd attends to him with slow, calculated touches. In and out with each inhale and exhale from Kevin's lungs.

After a few minutes, Kevin relaxes as he did before and reacts to the touch. He grips at Edd's pillow and encourages him to move his fingers faster, work them harder, touch him like that again. Only when Edd adds a third finger does Kevin flinch. He remarks, "Yeah, that's a bit of a tighter fucking fit, isn't it?"

"It is," Edd says, "I'll take it as slowly as you need me to."

But Kevin doesn't make him wait long. Soon Edd moves as he moved before. In his briefs his cock his hard as a diamond, and he knows Kevin can feel it against the back of his legs.

"Fuck me," Kevin finally says, "Do it. I'm ready. Go."

Edd blushes and says, "Be patient."

"Fuck patience, get in me, now," Kevin says.

Edd bites down a smile as he wiggles out of his underwear. He opens the condom packet, careful not to rip it, and rolls it over his erection. When he looks back to Kevin, he's watching Double D with eyes glazed and a dumb, happy smile stretching over his mouth. He comments, "You look real hot when you touch yourself like that, dork."

Edd rolls his eyes and pours lube over himself, slicking it into an even, slippery coating over the condom. He crawls up the bed and presses his hand against Kevin's shoulder –

Only to have Kevin stop him, "Wait."

"Yes?" Edd asks, and prays to any deity of any culture that Kevin isn't going to stop him entirely.

"Can I be on my back? Is that a thing?" he asks.

"I believe we can manage that," Edd replies, relieved, "You are an athlete. I imagine you're a little more flexible than most."

They shift. It's awkward, and they both fumble and hit each other and have to laugh their way through it, as Edd props Kevin's lower back up with his pillow, and situates each of Kevin's legs on his thin shoulders. It's interesting, with Edd so thin and Kevin's legs muscled from regular biking and participation in sports. He likes it. He has to apply a little more lubricant before he leans forward, and as the tip of his cock rubs up against Kevin, he knows that this is _right_.

Kevin is smiling at him when he begins to press inside him. It makes Edd's heart feel as though it's flipping through his chest, bouncing off his ribcage and wreaking havoc inside him. He wants to keep that smile, forever. But the grin melts as Edd moves deeper inside him, replaced by a little grimace of pain that increases with each movement.

"I'm all the way inside, now," Edd says, "I'll stay here until you want me to move."

Kevin gives a rapid nod and runs his hands through his red hair. He mutters, "You weren't kidding, man."

A silent moment passes between them, but it isn't long before Kevin says, "All right, go for it."

Edd slides back out and thrusts back in, with gentle, shallow ticks of his body. He isn't used to being on top, but he knows what he's liked to have boys do for him when he's being penetrated, and so he strives to be as considerate as he can. Kevin's brows are furrowed and his eyes shutter closed.

Edd's cock brushes against Kevin's prostate and he makes a loud noise.

"Holy shit, do that again," Kevin says.

Edd tucks his tongue in between his teeth and finds the correct angle to oblige him, slipping up against the sweet spot with each buck of his hips. Kevin starts to gasp and writhe beneath him, looking no longer quite as pained in horrible way and more like he's in wonderful, incredible pain. Around Edd's cock he's hot and tight. The sensation sends thrills and rapture through Edd's body. He feels his mind start to slow, his thoughts starting to kilter off as he pistons harder into Kevin.

"Oh," is what comes out of his mouth when he comes inside Kevin. He hangs his head and groans, dizzy with the power of the orgasm.

He doesn't look back up for several seconds. Kevin glistens with sweat underneath him. He's panting and pink in the cheeks.

"I am so glad I have a photographic memory," Edd says.

"Why – why's that?"

"Because I never want to forget looking at you like this," Edd replies.

With that, he pulls out of Kevin's body. Kevin releases a low whine and complains, "Fuckin' cold, now."

Edd only leaves long enough to discard the condom in his trash can. He returns to Kevin's side. Sleepiness sinks into him, all his energy sapped away. He feels his eyes getting heavy, and his breath begin to even out.

Until Kevin speaks, "Hey, c'mere."

"Why?"

"Just c'mere," Kevin says, and he rolls closer to Edd. Kevin presses his face against Edd's chest. His short, bright hair tickles against Edd's neck, and his breath beats against his skin softly. There, Kevin asks, "You all right?"

"Am _I_ all right?" Edd echoes, disbelieving, "Are _you_ all right?"

"M'good," Kevin answers, "Real good. Just making sure you're cool."

"I am," Edd says. He runs his fingers over Kevin's tattoo and over the back of his neck before wrapping his arms around him, cradling Kevin against him. He wishes his chest would stop hurting so much when he became this physically close to Kevin. He wishes he could trample the feeling into oblivion. But he cannot, and so he simply rests his chin on top of Kevin's head, and closes his eyes.

Edd doesn't even realize that he fell asleep until he jerks awake. The scent of sex still hangs in the air, and Kevin hasn't shifted from his place with his cheek against Edd's chest. His eyes open when he feels Edd move.

Sleepily, Kevin mumbles, "What time s'it."

Edd glances to his clock, "It's nearly seven."

"Mmph," expresses Kevin, "Can I stay."

"I'm watching the meteor shower tonight," responds Double D, "If you wish to watch it with me, I've no objection."

"Kay," Kevin sighs. He doesn't pull away from Edd for another couple of minutes. When he does, he stands and stretches. He yawns loudly before seeking out his clothes, his gait a little off when he walks. He complains, "I'm fucking sore. Next time we do that, I call top."

Edd laughs a little from the bed. He says, "I thought you were too nervous."

"I think I can figure it out," he replies, "Besides, you'll tell me if I fuck up. You like doing that, dork."

"I do take immeasurable pleasure in telling you when you've been stupid, yes," agrees Edd, and Kevin brandishes his middle finger.

Eventually Edd dresses. He chooses pajamas and treks downstairs in front of Kevin in his bunny slippers. He slips into the kitchen and fills his kettle.

"What are you doing?" asks Kevin, popping up from behind him. He wraps his arms around Edd's middle and kisses along the back of Edd's neck.

"Making hot chocolate," Edd says, "It's cold out, but I refuse to watch the meteor shower from a window."

While the water boils, he walks out onto the porch. A thin layer of snow covers everything, and the frigid air makes Edd shiver. Kevin emerges beside him, and after a second suggests, "If we put towels down we can sit on your porch swing together. You know, share body heat and stuff."

"That's not a bad idea," Edd says, and he sends Kevin to bring towels down from the linen closet upstairs while he tends to their hot cocoa and retrieves his coat from beside the front door. It's a cozy situation when they settle in. Each of them has a mug of cocoa in their grip, coats zipped and buttoned to their throats. Edd spreads a blanket across their laps and relaxes right against Kevin. He leans his head on Kevin's shoulder, wondering if that might be too much, but Kevin doesn't say anything.

"Did you see that?" Edd excitedly points to the streak of light that skids across the deep blue evening sky.

Kevin nods.

"Lovely!" Edd exclaims, "Fascinating. I never tire of watching the stars."

"I've never seen a shooting star before," Kevin says, "Well. I mean. Before this. They're – really cool."

"I'm proud to be here for this moment, then," Edd says, "I can e-mail you a website that lists when there will be meteor showers visible in the Peach Creek area, if you'd like."

At this Kevin's lips curl into a smile, and he looks away from Edd. He focuses his eyes on the mug in his hands and nurses the cocoa. He's quiet. Double D can't help but wonder what thoughts are running through Kevin's head, and almost asks before Kevin speaks again.

"Hey, Edd?"

No _dork_, this time.

"Mm?"

"I need to say something," Kevin says, and at last meets Edd's eyes again.

"By all means," Edd replies. His heart skips a beat and sudden worry floods him. Kevin could be terminating their arrangement. Perhaps he's been frightened by what they did. Even worse, what if he has grown tired of Double D?

"I like you," Kevin finishes, "Like, um. Like-like you. A lot. As in, feelings-like."

Edd feels his brows furrow. He doesn't know what to say, mainly because these words are not the words he expected from Kevin. He frowns, "That's not funny, Kevin."

"What's not funny? I'm vomiting emotions all over you. It's not funny at all," Kevin says back.

"You," Edd begins, "You're making a joke, right? It's not a particularly kind one, you know."

"I'm not joking, you thick-headed fuck," Kevin snaps, "I like you. I like every moment I spend with you. You piss me off and I love it, you make me come and I love it, you make me cocoa and take care of my tattoo and you drew the Batman symbol on my cast. You are so fucking cold sometimes, but when we're together it's like – I get to see something that other people don't."

Edd stares.

"Double D, come on," Kevin says, "I'm fessing up to some important shit, here."

The blood rushes to Edd's face. He feels his hands shaking and before he can stop them he spills his half-drunk cocoa onto the blanket and the snow-coated porch. He curses, "Shit," and scrambles to clean up after himself. Edd takes the blanket and mug, thrusting open the sliding glass door and scurrying inside.

Kevin follows him. He doesn't say anything as Edd loads the blanket into the washer and pours detergent in with trembling hands, just folds his arms over his chest and looks on.

Finally, Edd rubs a hand over his face. A battle rages inside him, because if he admits that he feels as Kevin claims to feel for him, he relinquishes what little control he has over their situation. He waves goodbye to the tenuous grip on reality that he has and he'll – well, he'll have to _trust _Kevin.

What a dreadful thing to have to do.

But…

"I-I have to admit I feel similarly," Edd finally whispers.

He takes a leap of faith. Edd has never liked acting on faith in place of reason, but the logical part of his mind seems to have wandered off, just for this occasion.

Kevin lets out a sigh and a laugh and says, "Goddamn, you scared me for a second. Can I kiss you?"

"Please," Edd says.

Kevin does so, wrapping his arms around Edd's back and pulling him in to deepen it. Edd would say that there's new feeling to the embrace, but he knows it felt this way before. He loops his arms around Kevin's neck and kisses back.

They pull their lips apart but don't let each other go. Edd holds onto Kevin like a raft adrift from a sinking ship, and Kevin runs his hands down Edd's back. He speaks again when Edd says nothing, "I was thinking, maybe this deal or whatever could be something else."

"Something else?" Edd repeats stupidly.

"Double D, you know what the fuck I'm talking about," Kevin says, "Like, uh. Um, a boyfriend something else. Or whatever. If that's cool with you."

"Boyfriend," Edd says.

"Yeah, man," Kevin says, "I mean, no pressure, but I'd really like that. I mean, we couldn't like, tell everybody about it. Or anybody. Except maybe Nazz, I dunno. But it's what I want and I've been sitting on this shit for a while so I'm asking you. To do that. Be my boyfriend."

Edd swallows every question that swells to his tongue: _Why would you want to date me? Are you certain that you're ready for a relationship with a boy? _

Instead, he concedes, "I…would like that, too."

**xxx**

**As always, thank you to all my wonderful readers. A special thank you to all the amazing reviewers – you guys really encouraged me to get this written!**


	11. Me and My Man

**Chapter Track: Me & Mr. Jones – Amy Winehouse**

Having Kevin as a _boyfriend_ is strange. It feels strange to Double D, firstly, to be attached: to see other couples in the hallways or cafeteria at school and know that he can count himself among them, a taken man. But other little things change: he is afraid to look too long at Kevin when they're in public, or smile at him, or speak to him.

But there are good things, too, he thinks, as his phone vibrates on his desk beside him. Normally, Edd wouldn't bother picking up his phone while he's knee-deep in a homework assignment, but he hasn't been able to resist. He picks up the phone and glances at what flashes on the screen. It's a text message from Kevin.

_heya handsome_

Edd blushes, despite the fact that he receives text messages of this nature on a regular basis, now. Kevin calls him all kinds of nice things. Every time that he does it, it feels as though somebody has taken Edd's heart in both fists and twisted it, like wringing out a wet rag. Before he can respond, a second message appears on the screen.

_hows the hw_

Double D wonders if he should set the messages aside until he's finished with everything that he needs to get done, but he doesn't want to hurt Kevin's feelings…so he answers.

_Fine, but I will finish faster if you leave me alone._

To this, Kevin says, _thats not wat u said last nite._

Edd rolls his eyes. He types back, _That is obscene, Kevin,_ and sets his cellphone aside at the top of his desk, and stretches his arms behind his back before he goes back to working on his essay. He agreed to let Kevin come over and stay the night with the stipulation that he could have the next two days to himself – not that Edd doesn't enjoy Kevin's company, but he feels overstimulated if he's with people for too many days in a row. Besides, he has some books to tackle.

But for tonight, when Edd is ready, Kevin is coming over for cocoa and a few episodes of Planet Earth. And, chances are, they'll end up in Edd's bed again, tangled in each other's limbs, sweating and pleasured and happy.

Happy – what an odd concept. If there's one thing Double D never expected to derive from making an arrangement with Kevin, it was happiness. But, here he is, heart beating faster every time Kevin ducks through his front door, insides writhing every time their lips touch, and his breath coming quicker whenever he knows that he is the one that put a smile on Kevin's face.

It isn't fair. Truly, one shouldn't be allowed to be so handsome.

Goodness – he just typed that in his Word document. Edd erases the words and shakes himself out of his trance. He reaches for his tea and takes a sip, hoping some warm, caffeinated liquid will give him the boost he needs to complete his work for the night. If nothing else, it's comforting, and he rests his fingers on his keyboard to resume writing.

The completed essay sits on his screen an hour and a half later, along with three unread text messages from Kevin on his phone. All are meant to pester and annoy, and so Double D doesn't acknowledge them when he tells him, _I've finished. You can come over._

While he waits for Kevin, he pads downstairs in his pajamas to the kitchen, where he starts the kettle and pulls the cocoa mix down from the cabinet. He hears Kevin let himself in, and after a second, smells his cologne as he sidles up behind Edd and wraps his arms around his middle, kissing his shoulders and back of his neck.

"Good evening," Edd greets, and turns in Kevin's grip to press their lips together. He tastes like cigarettes, a taste that didn't appeal to him before, but now fills him with an overwhelming sense of affection.

"Mm," Kevin says back, when he pulls back, "Hey, so before we get this started, um, I was wondering what your opinion is on V Day?"

"St. Valentine's Day?" Edd asks, and lifts his brows, "Well…I've never celebrated it before."

"Really?"

"When would I have had time for a significant other?" queries Edd, "Aside from now, when one essentially fell into my lap with about little to no effort on my part."

"Yeah, yeah," Kevin says, and squeezes Edd's shoulder, "Okay, I'll be the idea man. Nazz was wondering if you'd be cool if she chilled with us, since she doesn't have a dude this year. I told her I'd run it by you."

"What does she want to do?" asks Double D. Not that he minds Nazz, but since their younger days she's always been intimidating. She has a big personality, and like Kevin has talent for reading and working with people. She's vibrant, and at times Edd feels he pales in comparison to such a person. But then, he knows that Nazz is Kevin's best friend, and it seems cruel to deny them that.

Kevin lifts his red baseball cap off of his head and scratches a hand through his short, red hair before replacing it. He replies, "Uh, I think like, she wanted to go downtown? She said we could you know, be together down there without anybody recognizing us. So we can, uh, do couple stuff."

"I'm not one for public displays of affection, in any case," Edd says.

"Like holding hands, dork, not like fucking in the street," Kevin says back, and rolls his eyes.

"Must you be so crass?" Double D complains.

"Look," Kevin goes on, "Nazz says she knows this joint where they sell the kind of shit you like, like bugs and things in jars and stuff. I thought maybe we could drop in there, and if you found something that you liked, I could buy for you or something? A V-Day thingie that wouldn't be cliché."

"Oh," Edd says, "That's incredibly thoughtful of you."

That would mean that Edd would be required, as far as manners go, to purchase Kevin a gift in return. He supposes he could manage that – Kevin takes joy in many things. Baseball, football, Mythbusters, procedural crime shows, biking…and he's mechanically savvy, too.

"Would that be cool with you?"

"Certainly," agrees Edd, "Tell Nazz I said yes."

Kevin leans over and kisses his cheek, while Double D hopes that he hasn't made a mistake by agreeing to the Valentine's Day plans.

**xxx**

Valentine's Day falls on a Friday. Throughout the day at school, the usual sights greet Edd: Heart-shaped balloons, cookies with pink frosting exchanged between friends, candy-grams appearing in class, stuffed bears and boxes of chocolate cradled in careful hands and stuffed into smiling faces. Double D typically is unfazed by this hullaballoo, but today he's unusually nervy. He's on edge, but also excited about the plans for later tonight.

The usual jibes of his friends and foes tune down to mere white noise with the evening on his mind. Strangely, his outlook on life has been more optimistic with an ally like Kevin, a person that he can confide in when he feels angry or upset, that will talk him through it or kiss the frustration away, or sink inside him until they're both too tired to think, anyway.

The appeal of romance makes abrupt sense to him. Having a partner means that when he doesn't want to be alone, he doesn't have to be. He has arms to fall into. The entire experience is so dream-like that he feels as though he's living in a film.

As St. Valentine's Day falls into the category of _special occasion_, Edd told Kevin that they could start their adventure as soon as the school day ended – foregoing his usual Friday-night homework session that leaves the remainder of his weekend open. So, as soon as the final bell rings, Double D gathers the books he needs for the weekend, packs them into his messenger bag, and heads out to the parking lot to find Nazz's car.

"Took you long enough, dork," Kevin greets when Edd arrives. Thankfully the hustle and bustle around them is enough to make their conversation seem relatively unremarkable, but Kevin still does not treat him with the same affection as Edd is accustomed to receiving in public. He opens the trunk for Edd to load his belongings into, and then slides into the passenger's seat while Edd takes the back. He has to move a few items of questionable origin, but overall Nazz's car is not the worst that he has ever been privy to riding in.

In the front seat, Nazz wears sparkling, dangling earrings and an elaborate flower clip holding back a chunk of her blond hair. Her makeup follows her eccentric regimen: Kelly green eye shadow, and electric blue lipstick. Atypical, but she makes it her own.

"You look radiant as always, Nazz," Edd says, as they pull out of the parking space and roll through the mishmash of students to the street.

Nazz grins, "I like this one, Kevin. You can keep him. And thanks, Double D."

As soon as they leave the neighborhood, Kevin already seems to relax – he tilts back his chair and smiles broadly at Edd. He reaches behind and gives one of Edd's hands a squeeze. He says, "Happy Valentine's, dork."

"And to you, Kevin," Edd replies, feeling a trickle of warmth start to fill him, starting to make him feel the way that he does when he and Kevin are alone and together. A bit of hesitance nags at him in regards to being this way in front of Nazz – doing as couples tend to do, when their relationships are not secrets.

Nazz switches from the radio to a CD, and within a single note Edd realizes what she's playing is his own music. He turns red and lets Kevin's hand go, folding his fingers together in his lap.

"Your music is super rad, Double D," Nazz says, "When did you start mixing like that?"

"Oh, um…at the beginning of high school, I suppose," he answers, "I'm flattered to hear that you enjoy it."

"Dude, I love it," Nazz replies, "You're awesome, man."

Double D truly doesn't know how to deal with that level of flattery, and so he murmurs a thank you and quiets, concentrating on his hands as Nazz enters the highway. They make it to the city within a half-hour, slowed by Friday afternoon traffic for a handful of minutes, and enter the city. Nazz parks at a meter and Kevin cuts in to pay for it with his card.

"All right, food first, then weird shit," Nazz says, "I was thinking we could do that trendy vegetarian place? I know you're a steakhouse dude, Kev, but they've got a lot of good stuff."

Kevin turns to Edd and asks, "What do you think? It's your Valentine's outing."

"That sounds perfect," Edd says.

At this, Kevin smiles, and reaches down to slip his hand into Edd's. A look of surprise crosses Edd's face, and Kevin says, "C'mon, we don't have to be all worried when we're down here. Nobody knows who we are."

"If you're certain," Edd replies. He has to admit that he derives a primal pleasure from the act, a simple gesture just to mean _this man belongs to me_. He takes pride in the fact that such a fine specimen belongs to him, and that he belongs to Kevin.

What an odd concept – belonging to another person. But when Edd tastes the words in his mouth, he knows that they're the right ones to describe what he and Kevin share. It's an awful and tremendous thing to feel in regards to another person. Even after the past couple of weeks, he still hasn't decided if he likes feeling this way or not.

The restaurant in question is indeed trendy as Nazz described it. Most of it is filled with twenty-something hipsters in vintage clothing and thick-framed glasses. Edd can't help but feel a little out of place in his jeans and pea coat, though Kevin assured him before today that their Valentine's Day was not to be a formal affair. The wait for food isn't terribly long, since most couples will be enjoying their romantic meals later in the evening. A hostess with curly hair seats them at a booth, where Kevin pulls Edd in to sit on the same side, and rests his arm around Edd's shoulders.

Nazz smiles at both of them, and Kevin asks, "What's with you?"

"Nothing," she answers, "You guys just look good together."

"Do we?" asks Edd, "Because if there's anything that looks good, I assure you that Kevin is behind it."

"Whatever, dork," Kevin says, and brings him in to kiss the top of his head.

Double D protests, "Kevin, really. We are in public."

"So? It's Valentine's, this is pretty standard," Kevin responds, "Besides, I don't get to do this back home. Let me have my moment."

Edd eyes Kevin and submits, leaning his head over just a little onto Kevin's shoulder while Nazz smirks at them from across the table. Their waiter comes and introduces himself, takes their drink orders, and leaves them to consider their meal options. Edd likes the sound of most of the menu, and orders a pasta dish when the time comes.

As they eat, the waiter returns and addresses Kevin, "You two here for Valentine's Day? We've got a couples special on our desserts."

"Cool," Kevin says, stabbing at a noodle on Edd's plate, "We want dessert, don't we, baby?"

"Don't call me 'baby,'" Edd mutters.

To which Kevin replies, "Don't be such a spoil-sport," and kisses his cheek.

In the end, Kevin wins, and they do share a dessert: some kind of lemon tart that Edd nibbles at while Kevin takes heaping forkfuls. This time, when dinner ends, Double D insists upon paying, and practically throws his card at the waiter before Kevin can argue against him.

"I gotta take a whiz," Kevin announces, when the waiter leaves with Edd's debit card. He slides out of the booth and disappears around the corner, leaving Edd peeling at his dry cuticles with Nazz intently gazing at him.

"You know, I don't know if I've ever seen him this happy," Nazz tells Edd, "Not since we were kids, anyway. Like, Kevin's a happy dude, but – he's _really_ happy. He's fucking over the moon."

"I doubt it has anything to do with me," Edd replies, brows furrowed, "He's glad to be able to bike again, and today he's full of holiday spirit."

"Yeah, because of you, doofus," she answers, "You take good care of him, you hear? Or I'll whoop your ass."

"I believe that," Edd says, "And I will."

Before anything more can be said, Kevin returns, and they leave the restaurant. Nazz guides them to her shop of oddities and Kevin and Edd follow behind her hand in hand. The storefront of the place is interesting, decorated with plastic skulls, with a full skeleton beside the front door, wearing a hula skirt and a pink lei. Inside, it's cluttered – which naturally, makes Double D feel a little crazy – but filled to the brim with things that Edd wants to take home with him.

He scurries to one side of the store and says, "Do you guys know what this is?" and lifts a jar for them to see.

"Uh," Nazz says.

"Nope," Kevin replies.

"It's a vintage embalming kit – this one looks like it's possibly from the 1920s. Fascinating!"

"I told you that you'd like it here," Kevin says, "Do you want me to buy the kit for you?"

"Let me poke around first," Edd tells him, and wanders off into the adjoining section of the shop. Shelves upon shelves are filled with wonderful things: bits and pieces of history from all regions of the world spanning many eras. In a glass case behind the counter he sees pieces worth thousands of dollars, and that likely belong more in a museum than a private collection.

Kevin ends up seated on a 1950's-era barber's chair, just watching Nazz and Double D pull items down and quiz the employees on their origins, touching swords and old medicinal remedies and stranger things that Kevin can't indentify.

And then Edd sees it: easily the most romantic gift he could choose for himself.

"Oh, he's _lovely_," Edd exclaims.

On the wall between two standard collections of insects, a bat is mounted. Perfectly preserved, wings pinned open, mouth ajar to reveal tiny, white fangs…Double D is in love. He feels Kevin saunter up behind him and smells his cologne.

"You want that?" he asks, and squeezes Edd's arm affectionately.

"I can purchase it for myself, Kevin," Double D answers, "You needn't buy me things."

"I want to, for V-Day," Kevin replies, and instructs an employee to get it down.

Edd clutches the framed bat to his chest the entire way back to the car. As soon as he places it in the backseat, he can't help but throw his arms around Kevin's neck and kiss his stupid, handsome face for his kindness and festive attitude. Kevin grips Edd's backside and pulls him up for a deeper kiss. When he draws away, he winks, an indication for what's in store for later that night.

Traffic is heavier on the way back to their sleepy suburb, filled with businesspeople making the commute home. Kevin rides in the backseat with Edd this time around, keeping his arm around Edd's shoulders as he talks animatedly about the start of baseball season coming around the corner, and his hopes for the team this year.

Nazz drops them off at Edd's place. She goodbyes with an enthusiastic, "Make good choices, boys!" and leaves them to pull into her own driveway.

Double D makes a beeline for his bedroom, where he scans his walls for the perfect place to mount his new bat. He needs a name for him, probably something classic-sounding. Edd makes quick work of retrieving a hammer and nails to mount his new framed beast on the wall: he decides that beside his moth collection will do nicely, so it will be as though his bat is on the hunt for a meal.

Kevin watches this all from Edd's desk chair. More than once, he offers to help, and Edd declines. Giving a new specimen a home in his bedroom is a precise ritual, and though Kevin is dear to him, he doesn't trust Kevin to make certain the nails are in the wall at a perfect angle, or to be as delicate as necessary with the bat.

"There," Edd says, when he finishes, pleased with the result, "I believe I'll call him Winston." With that decision taken care of, he pulls his label-maker from the bottom drawer of his desk and types _Winston_ into it.

When Winston's label is in place, everything feels perfect.

"Thank you," Edd says, at last turning to Kevin, "He's a wonderful gift."

Which reminds him…

"I have a present for you, too," Edd says, "I apologize if it isn't precisely what you'd like, I tried to do as much research as I could before making the purchase and well, it just isn't my field of expertise." He crosses the room to his closet, where he takes down the _Kevin_ box, which now, in addition to a box of condoms and a couple of bottles of lubricant, has a square, neatly wrapped gift. He presents the gift to Kevin with a little shyness, and the anxiety that Kevin won't like it washes over him all over again. He did try as best he could, but some things will simply never make as much sense to him as math or science.

Kevin undoes the ribbon on top of the gift and tears it open.

"Dude," is all that Kevin says.

Edd interjects, "I did try to find something that you would enjoy, but if it isn't right, then I can always find something else. I am sorry."

"Dude!" Kevin says again, this time more loudly, "_Dude_. This is signed by _Yogi fucking Berra_. That's so – badass, dork." He holds the baseball (encircled by a square case) up to the light and repeats again, "Dude. Edd. Double D. God, crap. That's so awesome."

Edd turns pink and shuffles awkwardly, "I'm pleased that you like it," he says.

"Like it? Dork, I love it," Kevin says. He places the baseball on Edd's desk and leaps forward to kiss him, pulling him into a heavy embrace. He hauls Edd up, and out of habit more than anything, Edd immediately wraps his legs around Kevin's waist. Together they tumble onto Double D's bed, laughing and bright-eyed and both hard in their jeans.

The first St. Valentine's Day of Edd's experience…and truly, the most marvelous of all.

**xxx**

**Sorry for the slight delay…my sister's birthday was Saturday, and yesterday on Mother's Day we got a new puppy. His name is Gryffindor and if you're interested you can see some pics of him on my tumblrs at scarlettshazam or scarlettmiscellany. Thank you for reading!**


	12. I Was So Angry

**Chapter Track: Wednesday's Child – Vermillion Lies**

February thaws into March, and March rains into April. The stresses of graduation looming nearer hover above Double D at any given time during the day. Only when he and Kevin are together can he forget what's just around the corner. Leaving Peach Creek, living away from all the friends and people he knows, attending college in east…the emotions evoked from him at the endless prospects laid out before him are simultaneously thrilling and terrible.

The prospect of parting from Kevin has become part of it, too.

How strange, to worry about leaving behind a partner.

They don't speak much about it, though it's been impossible to avoid the subject forever. Kevin plans on enlisting in the army after the summer, so he'll have money for school later on. ("Not all of us get academic scholarships, dork.") It would be a lie if Edd said he didn't worry about that.

But in between, life is good. Edd ignores the tender feelings he has in regards to Kevin, and opts to enjoy what they have before they part ways in August. He lets the thoughts sink down into his gut and instead will kiss Kevin and wrap his arms around him, letting the scent of cologne and sweat and grass surround him.

On one particular Monday, Edd even lets his rules slip at school and pulls Kevin into a deserted back hallway to throw his arms around Kevin and kiss his stupid handsome face until both of them are breathless and pink in the face.

"Is everything cool?" Kevin asks, when Edd buries his face in Kevin's letterman jacket and breathes in his masculine scent.

"Yes, I'm fine," Edd answers, as he always does. Kissing Kevin helps put the stress out of his mind, but it won't eliminate it.

Kevin frowns and pulls Edd in for a firm hug. He rubs his big hand against Edd's back in wide circles for a few moments, before clapping him on the shoulder and saying, "I gotta head to Chem, but maybe I'll see you later tonight?"

"It depends on my homework load," Double D replies, "I'll text you."

"Kay," Kevin says, and kisses Edd a final time before he turns, sneakers squeaking on the checkered linoleum of the back science hallway. He watches Kevin retreat until he's swallowed behind a bright white wall. Edd waits a handful of minutes before he leaves, too, filing out into the much more populated hallway.

To Edd's fortune, the rest of the day goes smoothly. Each of his classes is filled with busywork to occupy his mind with, and his teachers assign their classes mainly test prep for the upcoming AP exams that he'll be taking. This year he has five, in a wide range of subjects. At times it feels as though there is not enough room in his mind for the information he's required to learn, but now this comes as a blessing. If he uses facts and formulas to fill his brain, it can't be occupied by the stress of moving to attend school at Princeton.

Beyond that, thinking of tests means that he won't think of Kevin, his boyfriend of three entire months, who does things like buy him bats for Valentine's Day, or never forgets to take his shoes off before he enters Edd's bedroom. The boyfriend that he's known for years and years but didn't really _know_ until recently. Kevin, with the dragon tattooed across his shoulder blade.

"I am supposed to be thinking about my tests," Edd mutters, when he realizes his mind has strayed in a different direction.

"You say something. Double D?" asks Eddy, who stands below him with his eyebrow cocked up.

Edd shakes his head, "No, my apologies. I was thinking out loud."

"Geez," Eddy says, and rolls his eyes, "You've like been on an entirely different fuckin' planet, man. Can't seem to get your attention for the life of me."

Ed puts in, "I wanna go to another planet."

"You're already on one, numbskull," Eddy shoots back, and Edd returns to not paying attention to his friends.

The walk home from school with them is as loud and energized as it always is, with Eddy raving about Lee Kanker doing something to drive him crazy, and his outlandish scheme to get back at her. Some couple those two make, but if he's honest, Double D would say that he thinks Eddy truly enjoys being at odds with Lee. He seems to find it attractive, their battling.

Edd does not understand it.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," he says, when they reach the cul-de-sac, and he tromps off toward his house. He removes his tennis shoes at the door and arranges them neatly on the rack before he heads upstairs to hang up his messenger bag. He'll make a cup of tea afterward, and then dive into his work for tonight.

Only when Edd descends the stairs and pads into the kitchen, there are _people_ in it.

His parents.

His mom is at the table in a salmon-colored pantsuit, with pearl earrings to match the necklace roped over her throat. She looks every bit the suave business lady, from her salt-and-pepper hair, to her cat's eye glasses, to the neat leather heels on her feet. His father is standing, brewing a pot of coffee at the counter. He too dons business clothes, a tweed suit and smart blue button-down, punctuated with a plain black bowtie. They make a handsome couple, even if they don't sleep in the same bed.

"Good evening," he says, confused, "I didn't know that you would be coming home."

"We thought we would surprise you," his mother says, which floods Edd with warmth for a half-second before she tacks on, "The house is a wreck, Eddward. We trust you to take care of our home while we are gone and this is unacceptable!"

"I –"

"Don't talk back to your mother, young man," his father scolds.

His mom carries on, "You left clothes in the dryer. The curtains were left open _mid-day_, Eddward, you know that fades the furniture and we expect you to know better. Your bedroom is in utter disarray, the study is a wreck, the lawn is _unmowed_, the DVDs are out of order…I'm ashamed of you! What have you done in our absence?"

"I…" Edd's voice goes small and quiet, "I've been studying for my Advanced Placement tests." He can't believe that he forgot to close the curtains. And the clothing – he meant to take that out last night, but Kevin distracted him. Kevin – he must have put one of the movies back out of alphabetical order.

And Edd hates mowing the lawn.

"Do not make excuses for your laziness," his father says, "We have expectations in this house. This is not the way that we raised you."

"You didn't raise me at all!" shouts Edd. He covers his mouth as soon as he realizes what he's said.

His mother's face darkens to a deep shade of angry red and she stands.

"Excuse me?" she says, "We work hard _every day_, and this is the kind of ingrate you become in the meantime?"

"I didn't mean –" he begins.

"Quiet, Eddward!" she snaps, "You have disappointed us both. What do you have to say for yourself?"

And suddenly, instead of the quiet guilt he would normally feel after being admonished by his family, he feels a streak of white-hot anger. At his sides, his fists clench. He feels the blood rush to his face and takes a breath to calm himself. He doesn't want to say anything that he will regret, he knows that impulse seldom leads to the better.

But then his father says, "Well? Don't ignore your mother, Eddward."

"I'm not ignoring you," he finally snips, "I am trying to keep myself together so that I do not utter anything that I will be doomed to regret, thank you."

"Do not take that tone with me," his mom says.

"I will take whatever tone I like," he whips out, and before he can stop himself all his thoughts come pouring from his lips, one after another, "I maintain a weighted grade higher than a 4.0 and it doesn't matter to you. I get accepted to attend school at Princeton, and it does not matter to you. I keep the house in order, watch your bills, do all the household chores, and it does not matter. But _God fucking forbid_ that I misplace a DVD!"

His courage runs out after that.

Edd turns on his heel and darts for the stairs. He hears his parents call after him but blocks them out. Edd slams the door to his bedroom shut, and in instants he has a duffel bag on his bed. He packs clothing into it, hardly caring that they unfold and tangle as he tosses them in. He throws his laptop inside, and the book that he's reading, and zips it all up. He almost forgets his schoolbag as he marches out of his room, and whips it off of the hook.

At his front door, his parents are shouting, but he tunes them out. He shoves his feet into his sneakers and pushes past them. He runs across the street and toward Kevin's, not caring whether or not he's seen by neighbors.

When Kevin answers the door, he looks surprised. He says, "You didn't text."

"Is your father home?" Edd asks breathlessly, and ducks inside Kevin's house without even being invited in.

"Nah, he's drinking with the guys," Kevin replies.

"Excellent," Edd says, dumping his bags onto the floor. He casts of his shoes and commands, "Fuck me."

"What?"

"Are you deaf?" Edd demands, "Fuck me." To demonstrate, he pulls his t-shirt up over his head and unbuttons his jeans, dropping them right there in the entry way.

"Uh, okay, just let me –"

"Just fuck me, Kevin," Edd snaps at him, and Kevin just silently nods this time. He vanishes up the stairs and reappears shirtless with lube in one hand a condom packet between his teeth. His eyes go wide when he watches Edd reach into his own underwear and start to feel himself up. He just needs to get this out, this horrible fury, this burden on his shoulders – if he can just have Kevin close to him, maybe it will all go away.

Kevin strips down quickly. He isn't hard yet, and Edd steps up to take his cock in hand and stroke it to life. He kisses Kevin's throat and then bites. Yes, he loves leaving bruises on Kevin. He needs it. He needs to see those marks, to make Kevin feel how much he needs him – _ah_.

Kevin's fingers slip up inside him, slick with lubricant. Edd moans and sinks his teeth into Kevin's shoulder, not caring that he's biting the tattoo there.

Kevin whimpers just a little and his fingers twitch inside Edd, brushing against his prostate. Edd groans and orders, "I need you. Fuck me, now."

"Are you sure –"

"Yes!"

Kevin looks a little pale, but obeys. He pulls his fingers away and rips open the condom, fumbling to get it over his erection as quickly as he can. He heaves Edd up and backs him against the wall, keeping him supported with one strong arm while he uses the other hand to position his cock at Edd's entrance. He thrusts inside with one smooth movement of his body. It hurts, but Edd doesn't care. It's the kind of pain that he wanted, _needed_ to feel today.

Kevin withdraws with a grunt and drives into Edd again. His hips work into a harried rhythm. They both cry out and Edd grips Kevin's shoulders, scratching hard and digging his fingernails into Kevin's soft, pliable skin.

How could his parents treat him like this? How could they walk in and pretend that he's useless? He isn't. He isn't useless. He works so hard, always with his parents in mind, always hoping they'll notice and praise the work he's done, but the praise never comes. It's always what he's done wrong. How can he do so much wrong?

"Holy shit," Kevin says.

Only then does Edd realize that he's broken down and started to cry. Kevin goes still inside him and lowers them both until they slip down onto the floor, bodies separated. Edd tries to stop crying, but the harder he tries, the faster the tears come. He feels Kevin rub his back. For a long time, neither of them says anything.

Until finally, Kevin murmurs, "What's going on, baby?"

Edd doesn't even bother telling Kevin not to tell him baby. He just says, "I'm so angry."

"I can see that," Kevin replies, "Here. Let's move this to my room. I'll grab your shit." He slides out from under Edd and slings his duffel bag and schoolbag over his shoulders, still naked as the day he was born. Edd scrambles to gather their clothing and follows, tears still streaming down his face. It isn't attractive, and now he can't breathe through his nose.

Kevin places Edd's bads on the floor near the foot of his bed, and extracts a couple of tissues from the box on his bedside table, passing them to him.

"Thank you," Edd says, and blows into one, mopping up the tears streaking down his face, and with a cry realizes, "I forgot to pack pajamas."

A moment later, Kevin pulls a baseball jersey from his closet and says, "Here, you can wear this if you want."

Edd gives a tearful nod and pulls the shirt over his head. It's big, and soft, and smells like laundry detergent and Kevin. The scent is comforting enough that the tears finally stop, though his nose is still clogged and his face must look splotchy and awful.

"Now, what's up?" asks Kevin, and he sits on his bed. He pats the space next to him, and Edd sits.

It takes a moment for him to get his breathing back in order. He's sore and dried up and angry. He mumbles, "My parents came home." Edd starts peeling at his dried-out cuticles, but Kevin covers each of Edd's bony hands with his own, bigger palms, so he doesn't pick.

"And that's a bad thing?" Kevin asks.

It occurs to Edd that this is a rather unfortunate time to have Kevin naked next to him, when he's trying to be serious. He isn't sure he wants to talk about everything, but if he can't talk to Kevin…then who can he talk to? Kevin has become somewhat of an anchor for him over these past months. He keeps Edd's feet on the ground.

"They criticized me for all these little, insignificant things, and I…lost control of myself," Edd goes on quietly, "I've not been myself, or maybe I've been too much myself, because I've been worried about everything. My tests, moving away, being away from you." He's blushing all over again. This shouldn't be embarrassing. He's merely telling his boyfriend that he is afraid of what will happen when they live apart.

"We'll figure that shit out," Kevin says, "I figured like, skype sex."

Double D can't help it. He laughs. And when he does, he leans his head into Kevin's shoulder.

"Maybe we can nap some and you'll feel better," suggests Kevin, "I can make you some tea when you get up. I got some when I went to the store with my dad last night. I just kind of picked up the kind with the most interesting box, so I'm sorry if it's not good. I know you use fancy shit."

"That's so thoughtful," Edd says, and kisses Kevin, even though he's embarrassed about his patchy, red, tear-stained face. Kevin strokes thick fingers through Edd's hair and pulls them down together onto his Batman-draped bed. He cups Edd's face in both hands and kisses him again, stroking the pads of his thumbs over his cheekbones.

Kevin whispers, "You look real nice in my baseball shirt."

"It's big," Edd replies.

"I'm big," Kevin shrugs, "Not as tall as you are, though. How about we quit talkin' and just pass out, huh?"

Edd nods silently to that and leans in. They still smell a little bit like sex, though it's faint, and overpowered by the much finer aroma of Kevin's soft baseball uniform. Everything about that garment is comforting, from the slide of the fabric across Edd's skin, to the smell, to it being so big that it hits him at the top of his thighs. He lets himself relax against Kevin's bare chest, and counts the freckles on his right shoulder one by one…until his eyelids grow heavy, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep.

**xxx**

Kevin wakes up before Edd does, bleary-eyed and with a heavy head. He and Edd nap a lot together, he realizes, but sometimes he feels like he needs to get Edd asleep on purpose just so he'll slow down and decompress. He's too high-strung for his own good, sometimes. Sure, Kevin's been wondering what they'll do after graduation, and how often they'll be able to see each other if Double D's all the way over at Princeton, and Kevin's in the army – but he knows they'd work it out. They're not dumb, especially not Edd. Besides, Edd is good with schedules and plans. He should be able to work their free time into time together, even if it's just a phone call or something small.

Beside him, Double D shifts and sighs in his sleep.

He does look real good in that baseball jersey. Peach Creek Pumas, white with red stripes running down it. It's too big for Edd, mainly because Edd's height is in his legs, and his shoulders aren't nearly as broad as Kevin's are.

A hot streak of affection pierces Kevin through the chest. He shifts uncomfortably and frowns.

Edd…man, he's really feeling things for this guy. He can't decide if that's good or bad, only that it makes him feel like he's sick. Double D makes his throat dry and his stomach turn and his palms sweaty, and Kevin loves every minute of it.

When Kevin's eyes sweep down over Edd's slender, sleeping form, they fall on the space between Edd's legs. His cock is hard, tenting the fabric of Kevin's baseball jersey. Kevin's lips curl into a grin and he leans down to murmur against Edd's ear, "Dreaming about something good, huh?"

Kevin knows Edd's awake when he feels him tense just a little against his body.

"How're you feeling, dork?" Kevin decides to ask, instead of doing what he's tempted to do, which is to reach up underneath the hem of that red and white baseball jersey and wrap his fingers around that cock he's so fond of.

"Frustrated, but better," Edd answers, "Mostly aroused."

Kevin's brows lift at that and he grins, "Yeah?"

"My dream was about you," Double D goes on, and he sits up. He presses Kevin down into the mattress and strokes his thin-fingered hands over his chest, lingering on his nipples before he leans down to slide his tongue against Kevin's collar bone. Kevin makes a noise, and Edd smiles – it's a strange smile, a curve of the lips, but his eyes are still sad. Is that possible? Kevin isn't sure, but he doesn't have long to dwell on it, because Edd cups his face and pushes their mouths together. He slides his tongue into Kevin's mouth.

Edd's cock is against his abdomen, hot and soft and _really_ distracting. Every time Edd makes even the slightest shift, Kevin whines.

"Do you have lubricant up here?" Edd asks against Kevin's lips.

Kevin nods without speaking and reaches for where he left it, tossed into his bedside table's drawer. He hands it to Double D and watches as he coats his fingers. Kevin expects to feel the touch to Edd's hands against him after that, but instead, Edd lifts Kevin's baseball jersey, spreads his limbs out, and reaches to slide his slick fingers into himself.

"Jesus," Kevin manages, and watches, entranced, as Edd touches himself. The baseball jersey rides up in the front, bunched over Edd's erection. Kevin looks on with a hunger in his gut as that erection moves with each thrust of Edd's fingers into himself, bobbing with a bead of precome at the tip. He can't help but put his hand on it, and he runs his thumb over the tip.

Edd hangs his head and moans lowly. The sound electrifies Kevin to the tips of his toes. He's hard, so hard, and he doesn't know that he's ever wanted Edd as much as he wants him right now.

Above him, Edd hits his own prostate – he shivers and sighs at the sensation, and strums against it again and again, his pink lips parted with pleasure each time he does it. When he pulls his fingers out of himself, Kevin feels a sense of loss, only to have his attention drawn immediately to where Edd is pulling a condom from his bedside table's drawer.

Double D opens the package with delicate hands and rolls it over Kevin's swollen cock with precision. He pours lube over Kevin and lifts his body up.

He doesn't sink down on Kevin right away. No, first, he leans forward and nips at Kevin's earlobe. He murmurs, "I am going to ride you until you scream, Kevin."

Kevin's breath catches at the words. His heart hammers, and he can do nothing but watch as Edd grips him at the base of his cock, and slowly, inch by inch, lowers himself down onto it. He's hot and tight around Kevin, so much so that Kevin can't help but groan. He runs his hands through his red hair, and then moves them to Edd's waist, clutching at him through the fabric of the jersey.

Edd lifts his hips and drives himself back down. His brows are knit with something between pleasure, concentration, and pain as he repeats his movement again, pumping his hips up and down, over and over. Kevin shakes all over, his fingers digging into Edd's bony sides as he slides himself onto Kevin's cock again, riding back on him, grinding down. He angles himself so that Kevin's erection hits at the right angle inside him – and his face looks gorgeous when he does that.

"Shit," Kevin hisses.

With Edd riding him like this, he could die right here and be a happy man. His brain starts to go fuzzy, and his lips start to move of their own accord, saying dirty things and sweet things all mixed into one hazy slew of words.

And when Kevin says, "Fuck yourself on that cock harder," Edd moans and obliges.

Double D pins Kevin down on the mattress and scratches his chest. He leans over as his hips piston back and forth over Kevin's cock and he bites Kevin's neck. He makes hickeys and bruises and scrapes his teeth over sensitive skin. Kevin is making noises he didn't know that he knew how to make. He's being loud, and his bed frame is quaking so much with the movements of Edd's body that it starts to hit the wall behind them to a beat.

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

And that's it.

Kevin _screams_ when he comes, just like Double D told him that he would. He shouts so loudly that he covers his mouth with his hands and turns pink, afraid that the whole cul-de-sac might have heard them.

Edd hushes him with his lips draws Kevin into a hard, defiant kiss. He lifts his body of off Kevin's, and instantly Kevin feels cold.

Until Double D crawls up forward on him with brown eyes burning like coals. He pushes Kevin down into his pillow with one hand, and with the other, Edd grips his erection and slides forward on his knees.

He presses the tip of his cock against Kevin's kiss-swollen mouth, and doesn't say word – Kevin knows what he wants, and he'll get it. He opens his mouth and lets Edd push his cock inside. Never in a million years did Kevin imagine that he'd like this taste, but he _loves_ it. Maybe it's because he knows it's Edd, that that's _his_ taste, and his alone.

Kevin's gotten better at this since they first became involved. Double D coached him through this a few times, until he got used to the feel of a cock in his mouth and knew how to handle it. Who knows, it could turn out to be a useful life skill. He presses his tongue over his bottom teeth and relaxes his throat, and just lets it happen. He lets Edd thrust in and out of his mouth like he just thrusted on and off of Kevin's body. He tastes good and he feels good.

Kevin grips Edd's ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. He moans around Edd's cock. He can't help it: Edd looks incredible above him like this, in Kevin's baseball jersey, skinny legs parted, eyes dark with lust and need. He reaches his hands into Kevin's hair and tugs, forcing Kevin forward. Kevin exhales through his nose and sucks harder.

Edd comes in the back of Kevin's throat. Kevin coughs a little when Double D finally draws back, but recovers and swallows so he can yank Edd down into a hard hug.

For several minutes, neither says a thing. They just wait, sweaty and sticking to each other, until their breath stops coming hard, and their heartbeats slow, and the room around them feels cooler.

"I would like a shower, please," Edd finally says. His voice is hoarse.

Kevin smooths a hand over Edd's long, dark hair and says, "A'course. Mind if I come with?"

"That sounds lovely, actually," Edd says.

In the bathroom, Edd strips off Kevin's baseball jersey and folds it. He arranges it neatly on the bathroom counter as Kevin turns on the water, testing the temperature. They shower together and return to Kevin's room within fifteen minutes, where Kevin strips the sheets off his bed to wash them, so Edd won't mind sleeping in the same place that they just fucked.

"Could you wash the jersey, too?" asks Edd, and a blush surfaces on the apples of his cheeks, "I'd like to sleep in it again."

"Sure thing, dork," Kevin says, and pulls Edd in to press a sloppy kiss to his temple, "You can have that one, if you want. I got more, and you look so good in it I think it might be meant for you."

Edd smiles at that, and says gently, "Thank you."

In the meantime, Kevin finds him a clean pair of pajama pants instead, and an old t-shirt from middle school that would fit Edd better than it fits him.

"I saved some documentaries I thought you might like on my Netflix," Kevin informs him, as they make their way downstairs, "We could hang out and watch those and maybe I could make some of that tea stuff I got? If you want that."

Edd looks happy to hear this, which makes Kevin instantly feel better about the events of the day. He says back, "Yes please, and thank you."

"Any time, man," Kevin replies, "You crashing here tonight?"

"If that is permissible," Double D says.

"Yeah, it's cool," Kevin answers.

Edd sits at the kitchen table and watches as Kevin fills a mug with tap water, and places it in the microwave. He says, as Kevin hunts for where his dad put the box of tea, "Hopefully, my parents will leave by tomorrow. That's their typical way of doing it."

Kevin doesn't respond to this, but he does hope that whatever happens, it'll be good for Edd. He doesn't like seeing Double D like this, wrecked and upset with no way of being able to express it other than rough sex and a deep frown.

When the microwave pings, Kevin takes out the mug and places a teabag inside. The box has a lion on it, and says something about rooibos, whatever that is. Hopefully rooibos is something that Edd likes. He probably at least knows what it is, anyway.

They arrange themselves on the living room couch, side by side. Edd selects a documentary about H. H. Holmes and rests his head against Kevin's shoulder. He doesn't watch the TV screen for long, though – within ten minutes, Edd's head slips down into Kevin's lap, and he can see that Double D is knocked out again, probably for the night, this time. Kevin doesn't want to disturb him, so he doesn't move. When the documentary finishes, he switches to watching episodes of Batman Beyond.

Kevin's dad comes home when Kevin's hand is in Edd's hair, stroking through it while future-Batman fights crime on the television. He looks at Kevin and Double D, and Kevin knows that there's no explaining his way out of this one.

"I'm dating him," Kevin says, before his dad can speak.

"Yeah, figured," his dad replies, and steps forward. He folds his arms and stares at them both before saying, "I don't really give a damn where you put your wiener, son. Just do it safe don't hurt no feelings, you hear?"

"You don't care?" Kevin echoes, dumbfounded and relieved all at once.

"Nah," his dad says, "You know in preschool your mom n' I got a call 'cause you'd been chasing some boy named Sammy. Got in trouble for kissing the poor kid. Week later, I get another call 'cause you've been chasing down this girl Victoria or some shit, same story. I figured you care less than most folks about what junk a person has down there, and just left it that. Your mom worried, but I didn't. Besides, I kinda like this kid you got here. He's respectful and seems like he's got his shit together. Sets a good example for you."

"Yeah," is all that Kevin can manage, because his throat is clogged up with some stew of emotion, "Yeah. He does. He's a good guy, Dad."

His dad just nods, gives Kevin a tip of his trucker hat, and heads upstairs for bed.

A few minutes later, when the dryer stops, Kevin wakes Edd so that he can collect the jersey and Batman sheets, so that they can do the same.

**xxx**

"I forgot to do my homework," Edd says, first thing the following morning. He's only half-dressed in his briefs and jeans, and has paled at his realization.

Kevin pulls a fresh t-shirt over his head and says, "Dude, chill out. I'm sure if you talk to your teachers they'll understand. What is this, like the one time that you forgot?"

"Yes! My perfect record is annihilated," Edd laments, "What am I going to do? I'm so humiliated. I can't believe that I forgot to do my _homework_, of all things. I was just – I was so upset, and now I've ruined everything."

"Double D, calm the fuck down," Kevin says. He grabs Edd's shoulder and kneads his thumb into his tense muscles, "I've done like three homework assignments all year and I've got passing grades, they don't expect a ton from seniors. We're graduating in a month. No one gives a fuck."

"I do," Edd argues back, and tears away from Kevin's hand. He rummages in his duffel bag and extracts a shirt, pulling it on before he raves on, "My teachers expect better than this from me. I know better than this. This could completely jeopardize my place as this year's valedictorian. What then? My parents will be even more disappointed than they already are in my inability to _anything _as it should be done and –"

Kevin kisses him.

"Slow down, baby," he says, "Your parents are chodes, and you can get extensions on the shit you forgot. It'll be fine. I swear. You've got a pristine record, man. That's major points for you. Just say you're sorry and that you'll never do it again."

"I – are you certain that will be successful?" Edd asks.

"Yes," Kevin says, "Now brush your teeth, dude, your breath smells like ass." It's not true, really, but the words do kick Edd into gear and distract him so that Kevin can lace his work boots and tromp down to the kitchen to brew them both some coffee.

By the time he's poured the coffee into thermoses for each of them, Edd has arranged himself neatly and arrives downstairs with his schoolbag on his arm. He still looks pale, so Kevin kisses him on the cheek when he hands him his coffee and says, "Here. You go out the back and I'll talk to you after baseball practice, okay?"

"All right," Edd responds, but his voice is tight and his skin still pale with worry.

Kevin loiters in his house for five minutes before he locks the front door and trots into the garage to take out his bike. He types in his garage code to close the door, and zips down his driveway. He pedals by Ed and Eddy mid-argument, and then by Edd who walks a few paces in front of them with his headphones plugged into his ears. He resists the urge to wave hello and greet his boyfriend, and instead jumps his bike onto the curb and rolls down the hill toward the high school. In the front, he locks it up and heads inside.

Nazz greets him with a fist bump and asks, "How's it going, soldier?"

"Kinda weird," he says, "Double D crashed at my place and forgot to do his homework."

"Bullshit," Nazz replies, and Kevin shakes his head. She pries, "How the hell did that happen?"

"He got into it with his folks," Kevin shrugs, "He's really on edge. It's freaking me out."

"Yikes," Nazz wrinkles her nose, "Maybe you should suck him off in the janitor's closet or something. That would cheer him up."

"Ew, Nazz, shut up," Kevin replies, and elbows her with a light laugh.

"Don't think I don't know what you do with that mouth," Nazz teases.

Kevin laughs louder and shoves her again, but she just gives him a wicked smile.

They part ways to go to their first classes of the day, and Kevin feels a little better having spoken to Nazz. She knows what's up.

Only…when Kevin gets out of his English class, he sees Edd in the hallway, wandering through the slew of other students like a ghost. His lips are tight, his dark brows crunched together, and he looks like he might throw up.

Kevin knows they have rules about how to act when they're at school. And he knows they've sort of been breaking those rules sometimes. So he does exactly what he thinks he should do: He bumps into Edd and whispers harshly in his ear, "Follow me." He heads for the locker room. No gym classes are scheduled for this period – Kevin knows this because when his coaches give him detention, they make him run in the gym during second period. That means the locker room will be clear, and he can spend some time with Edd to get him to calm down. Something, anything to get him to calm down.

He glances behind and sees Edd following some distance behind him. Good.

In the locker room, Double finally demands, "What are we doing? I have class!"

"Not anymore," Kevin says. He tugs Edd along, back into a shower stall. The stalls don't have doors, just tiled half-walls, but it's privacy enough for Kevin and he really needs to take care of Edd before he explodes.

"Kevin," Edd protests.

"Double D," Kevin mocks back.

Kevin backs Edd against the wall and kisses him. Edd stiffens but falls into the embrace with a little coaxing of his tongue. When Kevin backs off, Edd looks a little less angry and has more color in his face.

Kevin licks his lips, and makes an executive decision.

He sinks onto his knees and undoes the fly of Double D's jeans, rubbing his cock to life through his underwear before he takes it out. He licks along the shaft, and sucks the head into his mouth. Edd whimpers, and it echoes through the empty locker room.

"Holy _fuck_."

Kevin whips pulls off of Edd in an instant. He flushes red and fear pulses through his veins when he realizes that, behind them, stands his football teammate Benny.

And he's seen everything.

**xxx**

**Thank you reading! Each and every one of you is appreciated. **


	13. Watch Me Sink

**Locked Up – Ingrid Michaelson**

Kevin scrambles to his feet, his heart beating a million times per minute. His first instinct is to run like hell, but instead he steps in front of Edd so he can cover himself up. Double D looks mortified, someplace between breaking down and crying and passing out. He rasps, "This is why we made rules, Kevin."

"Dude, what the hell?" Benny says, at last. He, too, is red, and his face distorted in anger.

"What?" Kevin snaps, "Fuck off."

"This – this guy? One of the fucking Eds – _Edith. _This is dude is Edith?"

"Who is Edith?" asks Edd.

"His girlfriend! Or you, I guess," Benny says, and rubs his hands over his face, "I mean, really, man? You – you've had girlfriends before, you're not…you aren't…"

"Gay?" suggests Kevin, "I'm not. I'm bi, or something. I think. I don't know. Just – don't tell anybody, please dude?" It's a straight up plea, and from the look on Benny's face, it's fallen on deaf ears. His features are twisted, like he's been kissing Double D just to hurt his feelings, just to offend him personally. It makes Kevin angry, and it makes him afraid. He doesn't want anybody to know about this. He just – wants to remember high school as a time of peace, not a time of being ostracized.

"Fuck that, man, we've been on a team together," Benny says, "We've been, like, changing with you!"

At that, Double D pounces out from behind Kevin and snips, "You think he's just attracted to you because you're a male? Because that is the most asinine, ignorant –"

"Dork, calm down," Kevin interrupts, and pulls him back. As much as Edd is right, he doesn't want to start a fight over this. He doesn't want to lose Benny as a friend – but he doesn't want to lose Double D, either. Double D makes him feel good, makes him feel wanted. He takes care of Kevin, and Kevin takes care of him, too.

Jesus, his mind is going into overload. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do about this. No amount of extroversion or experience has ever prepared him for this moment, and now he's stuck.

Benny turns on his heel and strides away from the locker room showers. Kevin glances at Edd and then pushes past him. He chases after Benny – when he notices that Kevin is following him, he walks faster, and Kevin has to yank him back by the arm and force Benny to face him.

"What were you even doing in there?" Kevin demands breathlessly, "No one was supposed to be there."

"I left my hoodie in my locker, asshole," Benny answers, and tears away.

There are people watching them now. But Kevin has to explain, he has to make this right. He has to fix it. He says, "Come on, man, you're my friend."

"Not anymore, you fucking faggot," Benny replies, "You don't even have good taste. You're with that fucking science fag, you've been with him the whole time."

"Hey!" Kevin says, "Call me whatever the fuck you want, but leave Double D out of this."

"That's sick," Benny spits back, "That's fucking sick. You – I can't believe you're into _him_." He points, and Kevin snaps back, where Edd is standing. As soon as he notices people looking at him, Edd stares down at the floor and his shoulders hunch. That frown he used to have on his face all the time has returned, and Kevin can see him picking at his dry hands from here. They'll bleed if he keeps doing that.

When Kevin turns back, Benny is gone, leaving a bunch of staring asshole students behind him. Nazz is among them, though she looks sympathetic. When she takes a step forward, Kevin shakes his head, and she nods in understanding. They can talk about it later.

But God, the school day has only just begun. How is he supposed to get through the rest of it?

Kevin's eyes flick to Edd, who's trying to make himself look less tall and slink off away from the scene. Damn it, Kevin knows Double D hates conflict, but now is not the time for him to ditch Kevin. He jogs after Edd and grabs his hand. Edd stiffens up.

"Dork, c'mon," he says, and tries to keep the desperation in his voice at a minimum.

"Kevin," Double D whispers, "Don't you want to keep the damage as low as possible? Just leave, it will be much easier for you that way. Trust me."

"Fuck that," Kevin says, and links his fingers in with Edd's.

**xxx**

But as the day progresses, Kevin learns that this isn't going to be as easy as it he thought it would be. He had to come out sometime, right? Especially with how much he cares about fucking Double D. That wasn't gonna be a secret forever. But it felt like it could at least wait until after high school, until Kevin had some time to figure out himself and he didn't have to fess up to any of his teammates about the shit that he does on his own damn time.

But people are staring at him in every one of his classes. He gets texts from three separate football teammates and two baseball guys that they don't think they can hang out anymore and that they hope he understands.

When Kevin leaves his final class for the day and reaches his locker, there's a huge sharpie word written on it: FAG.

His stomach twists up into a knot inside him and he runs a hand through his hair.

"Jesus, that's tacky," he hears beside him, and jumps about a mile when he sees Nazz leaning on the locker next to his.

"You scared me," he complains.

Nazz says, "Yeah, I can see that. You okay, man? That shit today was crazy."

"I'm not doing too good," Kevin admits, and pulls up the texts on his phone so that Nazz can see them. He says, "I didn't – I guess I should have known that this was how it was gonna be if people found out, but I didn't know. I should have, because I did this shit to other guys. I did it to Edd before we started our thing, and I did it to Johnny too. It's fucking shitty. I just want things to go back to normal."

"You want me to come over?" asks Nazz, "I know it's not much, but we can get drunk and watch cartoons or something, I dunno. Whatever you need, I'm your chick."

Kevin manages a small smile and says, "Yeah, that sounds cool. I'll ask Double D if he wants to come too, if that's cool with you."

"Super cool, I like that kid," Nazz responds.

Kevin swaps out the belongings in his locker for the ones he'll need if he plans on doing any homework that night and walks with Nazz to her car. He shoots off a short text to Edd: _hangin w nazz at my place u want in._

But Edd sends back, _I've promised to spend time with Ed and Eddy tonight. I will text you, though. _

Disappointed, Kevin slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans and loads into the passenger's seat of Nazz's car. She drives them the short distance between the school and their cul-de-sac and parks in Kevin's driveway. Kevin is glad to see that besides them, the street is mostly abandoned. He still feels a prickle of humiliation when he thinks about earlier today, and doesn't want to know what all these kids he's grown up with would think of his sexuality.

"Fuck, why can't I just be normal?" Kevin asks.

"You are normal," Nazz assures him, "Shockingly normal, actually. Liking dick doesn't change that."

"Jesus, could you say that any louder?" Kevin complains, and opens the front door. He closes it behind him with a loud exhale. It's a relief to be back home. At least here, he knows nothing will change. His dad doesn't give a shit about him and Edd, and that makes this his safe haven, frankly. Kevin doesn't think he could handle being ostracized in his own home.

"Kevin," Nazz says, and he jerks out of his thoughts. She tugs at the sleeve of his letterman jacket to get him to look at her, and goes on, "I know this fucking sucks, man. I mean. I don't know what it feels like, I guess, but I know it can't feel good and so –" she takes a deep breath, "I love you, okay? It fucks me up when I see you bent out of shape like this. And you know what, Double D loves your dumb ass too."

"He does not," Kevin says, and shifts out of Nazz's grip to start up the stairs.

In his bedroom, Nazz kicks off her eyeball-printed flats and says, "He does so love you. It's kind of incredible actually, since you're such a pain in his ass. Figuratively and literally. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what? You are so full of shit today," Kevin says back, "You wanna watch Scooby Doo? I wanna watch Scooby Doo."

"Don't change the subject, damn it," Nazz says.

Kevin shifts uncomfortably. He dislikes talking about this stuff – he can go on and on about nothing, but when it comes to the serious shit, he buckles. Of course, things with Edd have been on the serious side since the get-go, and so he's used to Edd pushing his boundaries and making him uncomfortable. Nazz, on the other hand, is not a person that's supposed to make him feel on edge.

"This is real messed up, Nazz," he at last settles on saying, "I don't want to talk about this. I just wanna think for a while, okay?"

Nazz eyes him. She doesn't look like she wants to switch gears, but she still sighs and replies, "Okay. Fine. We'll watch some Scooby Doo. I got some reefer in my backpack, you wanna smoke a bowl?"

"What are you doing bringing that shit to school?" asks Kevin.

"What are you doing giving blow jobs at school?" Nazz shoots back.

"Touché," Kevin concedes, "Fine, I won't ask. And yes, please."

While Nazz unloads the contents of her backpack, Kevin switches on his television and flicks through the channels. With nothing decent on, he opts for his DVDs up top – original Scooby Doo, absolute classics. Nazz always teases him for being _a Freddy_, but whatever, if he's Freddy, then she's Velma.

When Kevin turns back, Nazz has made herself at home on his floor with a pillow and his soft, fleece throw blanket. She has her lighter out, and flicks it on to light up. When the smoky, skunky scent of marijuana fills the air, Kevin convinces himself that he feels a little better. This is good. This is familiar. This is what he needs.

So he and Nazz pass her pipe back and forth between them while cartoons flash across the screen. Outside, a crash of thunder sounds and rain bursts from ironclad clouds. As the droplets pound against Kevin's bedroom window, he slips downstairs to grab some beers for the both of them.

Being buzzed helps, he thinks. Maybe not. It makes him feel slower, and thoughts of Benny and his teammates and the word _fag_ linger in his brain instead of going away.

Until the doorbell rings.

Kevin shifts up and says to Nazz, who's lounging on his carpet with pink eyes and sleepy smile on her face, "I'll get it, be right back."

He jogs down and opens the door –

Double D.

He's drenched, his hat pulled firmly down over his head. Kevin wonders how long he stood outside – it isn't possible to be as wet as Edd is just from crossing the street.

"Dork, what's up?" he asks, "I thought you were chilling with your friends."

"I was," Edd says stiffly, "May I please come in?"

"Of course," Kevin says, and watches as Edd sweeps inside and closes the door. He removes his wet shoes and then, after a pause, his socks, which he rolls up and places inside his sneakers. He follows Kevin upstairs quietly.

"Hello, Nazz," Edd greets, when they reach Kevin's bedroom. He coughs a little at the scent of weed, but doesn't comment.

"Hey, Double D," Nazz replies, "You wanna hit?" She lifts up the pipe, as though toasting him.

Edd shakes his head and answers in turn, "No, thank you. I appreciate the offer nonetheless."

Kevin rests his hand on Edd shoulder and asks, "You want me to take your jacket? You're soaked, dork."

"That would be lovely," Edd replies.

Kevin peels the jacket from Double D's shoulder and hangs it on the top of his door with a wire hanger. He turns back and asks, "What gives? Did things not go too good with Ed and Eddy?"

Edd sighs and corrects, "_Well_, Kevin," before he goes on, "Eddy took it as a personal affront that I did not tell him of my relationship with you. Ed already knew. He had guessed. Anyway, Eddy kicked me out of his home in a fury, and I didn't want to go home because my parents are still there, and so I stood in the rain for a little before I decided that your house was the best place to go to."

Kevin reaches for him, but when he does, Edd tenses.

"What's wrong?" Kevin asks, "You're all weird when I touch you."

"It's nothing," Edd says, "I apologize. It's been a long day." He huffs and leans into Kevin's chest. He hides his face against the dry fabric of Kevin's shirt and just breathes for a little while, before he lifts his head again and pecks a kiss to Kevin's lips. His dark eyes are clouded with something – something emotional, but Kevin doesn't know _what_, and he doesn't think that Double D would answer him if he asked about it.

After some shuffling, Kevin convinces Edd to swap his wet clothing for some of Kevin's drier things, and he goes to change in the bathroom. On the floor, Nazz's eyes are closed – she's either asleep, or damn close to it.

When Edd returns, he sets his things by Kevin's door and slides up onto Kevin's bed, like he's been waiting the whole day to have a nap. He rests his head against Kevin's pillows and asks, "How are you doing?"

"Kinda shitty," Kevin answers, and plops down beside Edd. He looks to Nazz again, and sees her mouth slightly parted. He thinks she truly is asleep, so he doesn't mind fessing up a little more to Edd than he did to her. He says, "I'm not used to, um. Being, uh."

"Ostracized?" suggests Edd.

"Yeah, that," Kevin agrees, "How do you – did you. How do you do it?"

Double D shrugs, "You become used to it. Frankly, every day since junior high school has been like this one for me. Some are worse, and some are better, but no matter what there are still people that will never see you as anything but homosexual. I've found that I can either spend every day being angry about it, or I can ignore them and move on. Most days, I am a combination of both."

"That sounds fucking terrible," Kevin complains.

"It is," says Edd, "But I refuse to cater to a bunch of small-minded bigots instead of being true to myself. People love to find something to criticize. If it wasn't my sexual preference, it would be my intelligence, or my politics, or my physical appearance. Probably all of them."

Kevin frowns. His gut churns, and his heart hurts. Usually what he does to stop this is kiss Edd – so that's what he does. He settles down onto his side and pulls Edd in for a long kiss. It's more tender than he meant it to be, and he pulls back with a start from it.

No, instead of feeling better, he just feels worse.

**xxx**

The rest of the week tumbles by in a blur. Most days, Kevin wants to curl up and sleep instead of going to school, but like clockwork Nazz shows up at his door to drag him out of bed and drive him over.

"You want to be able to graduate, dummy," she tells him, "Don't fuck it up in the last month."

She's right, he knows. Kevin's skipped enough class over the years that he's only just barely skating by, and to graduate he needs to be on his best behavior for the remainder of his high school career.

On Friday, Nazz parks the car and leaves Kevin for an early-morning meeting of some art club for the final show of the school year. Kevin drifts through the hallways, feeling self-conscious at every turn. When he sees Edd sifting through his school books at his locker, he feels a little better. Edd sees him as he closes his locker and manages a little smile.

Boldly, Kevin leans over and kisses Double D's cheek.

There. That wasn't so hard. Just a little kiss.

"Gross!" somebody calls, and Kevin jerks up to see a couple guys from the baseball team. Nevermind that he'll be at practice with them later than afternoon.

He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts back, "Hey, fuck you!" but instead of making him feel better, new anger bubbles in his stomach.

Edd reaches up and rubs Kevin's back. It dissolves the fury a little bit, but only enough to get Kevin to tear his glower away from the guys. Double D reassures him, "It'll get easier. Besides, we only have a month remaining of high school. After that, you needn't worry about these people. They'll be off at different schools in different states and they won't be able to bother you."

"But you'll be at a different school too," Kevin says. At that, he feels just about hopeless. Yeah, those guys can't bug him when they're gone, but Edd won't be here to celebrate their absence with him.

"We'll video chat," Double D promises, and keeps his hand stroking over Kevin's spine, "I promise I can think of ways to make it interesting. I won't discuss biochemistry at all, no matter how tempted."

Kevin almost says that he'd love to hear Edd talk about biochemistry as long as he stayed here in Peach Creek, but he doesn't. Instead, he just keeps quiet.

Before they part to attend their classes, Kevin leans and kisses Edd square on the mouth. Jesus, this has to make him feel better. It has to make it better, or he won't know what to do. Double D gives a slight smile when they part, and waves, heading down the hallway, and Kevin stands watching him.

Until Kevin gets shoved back against the lockers.

It's Benny. He's about Kevin's size, but behind him are a couple of the linebackers from the football team.

"What do you want, asshole?" Kevin snaps.

"You stop whatever the fuck that is," Benny spits.

"What?" Kevin says, "Kissing my boyfriend? That make you uncomfortable, Benny?" On a stupid, stupid impulse, Kevin leans forward and licks his lips, pursing them like he's about to kiss Benny.

It's funny, until a linebacker's fist shoots out and connects with Kevin's jaw. Kevin's head snaps back. He tastes blood in his mouth – and that's it. Kevin loses it. Fire fills his veins, and he roars, "HEY," before he launches himself at the linebacker in question, forcing his whole weight against the guy and toppling him to the ground. His fist winds back and he slams the guy square in the nose.

"Real funny, huh?" Kevin spits, and bloody spittle goes everywhere, "You scared of getting kissed by a guy? 'Cause that's real fuckin' scary, isn't it?"

He's only in control for that instant before the linebacker flips him onto his back. Kevin's head cracks against the linoleum.

But then he's freed – there's the football coach, yanking the linebacker off of him. Only, his coach gestures to him, too. He and his teammate get marched down the hall, blood pouring from both their noses. To Kevin's delight, the asshole has a black eye sprouting. But who knows? Kevin could have one too.

Coach takes them to the dean's office, and makes them sit beside each other in the small waiting area. He stands and waits with eyes on the both of them, arms crossed and bushy brows crunched together.

When the senior dean emerges from her office and asks, "What the hell happened here?"

"Had to pry Jeremy off Kevin, but I think Kevin started it," Coach explains.

"I did not," Kevin protests, "He threw the first punch."

"Yeah, 'cause you're a fucking pussy-ass faggot," Jeremy spits back.

"Boys!" the dean – Mrs. Johnson – warns, "Jeremy, that is absolutely unacceptable language, you man. I want you both in my office. Right _now_."

Dutifully, Kevin and Jeremy follow her, and slouch into the seats in front of her.

"I can't believe you got yourselves in this kind of trouble right before graduation," she scolds, "Jeremy, I'm going to have to give you two days of out-of-school suspension since you threw the first punch. Kevin, you'll have two days of in-school suspension. You will be helping Mr. Henson with cleaning up the cafeteria."

"But –"

"No buts, mister," Mrs. Johnson says, and that's that.

She sends Kevin and Jeremy back to their classes, the punishment to begin on the following Monday. Kevin can't believe that he fucked this up.

He can't believe any of this.

And it – it all happened just because of his thing with Double D.

Maybe…maybe getting involved with Edd was a bad idea. Maybe he never should have done it. Maybe…it just needs to end. It'll be better for both of them that way. Kevin can go back to being normal, and when summer ends, Edd can go to Princeton without any strings attaching him to Peach Creek.

Kevin ruminates on this in his following classes his. He doesn't see a downside. Even if it hurts him, he needs to do it. For both of them. It will be good for both of them.

When the final bell rings, Kevin clenches his fists and heads for Double D's locker. Edd is already standing there when he arrives, and Kevin taps him on the shoulder.

"Kevin," Edd breathes, "Goodness gracious, what happened? Are you all right? Do you need first aid?"

Kevin shakes his head, "No. I need to talk to you, though."

"That's fine," Edd says, "Let me gather my things."

Kevin waits, but grinds his teeth while he does. His insides feel like they're tearing themselves apart. Something tells him that he doesn't need to do this, that he shouldn't – but the logical part of his brain says that it's necessary.

He and Edd walk side by side out of the school. Kevin unlocks his bike from the rack and says, "I'll walk it while we talk."

Kevin waits until they've trudged out of sight from the school, and stops.

"All right," Edd says, "What do you need to discuss?"

Kevin inhales to steel himself.

He says, "I think we need to break up."

**xxx**

**Angst, ahoy! Thank you for reading. I love you all!**


	14. When You Mess With Us

**Chapter Track: Karma Police – Radiohead **

Edd's stomach plummets, and he tears his eyes away from Kevin. He knew that this would happen – he knew that as soon as he let Kevin worm his way into his life that he would regret it. And he does regret it, right now, more deeply than anything, that he allowed himself to trust somebody the way that he trusted Kevin. A million emotions well up inside him, but he knows better now than to let them escape in Kevin's presence.

"I understand," Double D says, though his voice is barely above a whisper.

And truthfully, he _doesn't_ understand. Edd doesn't understand why being romantically involved with him should be a problem. He is a boy, but that doesn't change how much he feels, or his passions, or his intelligence, or his worth – none of those change because he loves a boy.

Oh, dear.

He loves a boy.

Or should it be that he _loved_ a boy? Because that boy stands before him right now, brows hitched and frown on his face, his breakup words still echoing in Double D's ears.

"Do you?" Kevin asks.

"Do I what?" Edd replies.

"Understand? Why I have to do this, I mean," Kevin says.

Edd gives him a curt nod and says, "Yes, of course I understand. Excuse me, I have a homework assignment to attend to. Have a good afternoon, Kevin." He starts walking, pace rapid and heart beating up into his throat. He has to make it to his house before he can express all the anger and hurt and upheaval that he feels. He can't let it be evident to Kevin, because Kevin is not to be trusted with those kinds of emotions. Kevin shouldn't have been trusted with them to begin with, really. And now Double D is paying the price for his poor judgment. His stupid, stupid judgment.

"Double D, wait," Kevin calls, and jogs with his bicycle to catch up to Edd's long stride. He goes, "C'mon, dude, we can still be friends, can't we?"

Edd wants to veer and scream that no, they cannot be friends anymore, but instead he says softly, "Of course. Please, I need to do my homework."

"Uh, okay," Kevin responds, "Hey, can we hang tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately, I am otherwise occupied, though I thank you for your offer," Edd stiffly says. He's so close. The cul-de-sac is right there. He can see his house. Once he's inside, he'll be safe, at least safe enough to let out the tumult of anguish rolling in his stomach. He feels like he needs to vomit, or weep, or a terrible combination of both.

Kevin says goodbye to him when they reach the street, but Double D doesn't return the courtesy. If he does, his voice will break and he may start to cry. And he can't have that in front of Kevin. No, no, certainly not.

When the front door closes behind him, he lets out a long, shaking breath.

"Eddward, is that you?" he hears his mother's voice call from the kitchen.

Dutifully, Edd straightens his back and goes to greet her, "Hello, mom."

"You're still being punished for your attitude toward us the other day, remember? I hope you're not planning on going out," she hums, not even once glancing up from her iPad to look Edd in the eye. But if she did, would she even be able to tell how upset he is? Double D hears that mothers are good for that, but he doubts his own mother has the same skillset as the average housewife.

"No," Edd says, and this, at least, is the truth, "I just wanted to make a cup of tea before I started my homework."

Robotically, he goes through the motions: he spoons a precise teaspoon of green tea leaves into his tea ball while he waits for the water in the kettle to boil. When it whistles, he pours the liquid over the leaves, and takes the steaming mug up to his bedroom. Edd places the mug on the coaster that he keeps on his desk. Double D turns to close his bedroom door, and lock it behind him.

He presses his back to the door, and after a long moment, sinks down, down, down. Edd is sitting on the carpet when he presses his face into his knees and starts to cry.

Double D hates crying. He doesn't do it much, but it seems that since Kevin paraded into his life, he's been doing a lot more of it. How awful – he's so used to keeping a firm lid on every feeling that isn't positive, because people don't like hearing that you _feel bad_, or that your emotion is anything but chipper and ready to do what needs to be done. He could be that person, or so he thought. Now Edd isn't as sure. He feels like a ragdoll, torn to shreds by the teeth of an angry dog. The pieces of him are everywhere, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to pick them all up and reassemble them.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, only that when he lifts his head the room is blurry from tears, and he needs to blow his nose. He shifts and stands, and plucks a Kleenex from the box beside his laptop. Double D blows his nose and wipes the tears off of his face. He removes the tea ball from his mug and lifts the cup to his lips for a sip. He left the leaves to steep for too long. Now they're bitter.

But nonetheless, Double D goes on. He sits down at his desk and eventually stops sniffling. The hurt doesn't stop, but he finishes his tea and completes his homework – and if that's all he can do for now, he calls it an accomplishment.

As the sun sets over the roofs in the cul-de-sac, there's a rap at his bedroom door. Edd crosses the room to unlock it, and sees his mother. His skin is still splotchy and his eyes still red from crying, but he doesn't care.

"Edd?" she says, "Is your homework done?"

"Yes," is all that he says.

His mother has the humanity to look at least mildly concerned, which is somewhat of a comfort.

"Your friends are at the door. They're asking if you'd like to watch movies," she says.

"I'm being punished, you'll recall," Edd says. But when he tries to close his bedroom door, his mother's hand shoots out and she holds it open.

"Eddward," she says, "What is going on with you? You never used to be like this."

"It isn't any of your business," he replies, "and tell them to leave."

"Sockhead, what the hell? You said you were done with your homework. What gives?" Eddy pushes the bedroom door open a little more from behind Double D's mom.

"I am not in the mood," Double D replies, "You and Ed will have more fun without me."

"No we won't!" protests Ed, and with one of his shoves, the bedroom door is well and truly open, "Why are you sad? Did Kevin do it?"

Double D doesn't even have to say anything – Ed may not be the brightest, but there are some things he just _knows_, and that's when people are upset, and how to cheer them up. He takes one look at Double D's tear-stained, miserable face and says, "Kevin is stupid and you are great. Let's order pizza and you'll feel better, okay?"

"Okay," agrees Double D.

Truth be told, having his friends here already makes him feel a little better, and a little less alone. He must remember that despite his natural inclination to shut himself in his dark bedroom and only emerge when necessary, sometimes one does need his fellows. And right now, he's never needed them more. Impulsively, he leaps forward and hugs Ed around his thick middle, and even though he smells a little like french fries and body odor, Double D buries his face in Ed's Rocky Horror t-shirt and stays there.

Ed hugs him back, wrapping strong arms around Edd's skinny torso.

"Told you, dude," Eddy says from beside them, "Kevin's a bad guy. You shouldn't get mixed up with those people, they'll fuck you up."

Despite today's events, Double D still feels an urge to tell Eddy that he's wrong, that Kevin isn't a bad guy and it isn't fair to make that generalization. But what kind of person makes you love them and trust them and then throws it all away when it isn't convenient?

Double D extracts himself from Ed's hug and nods, "Of course. You were right. I should have listened, but I didn't."

The amount of times that Double D has ever told Eddy that he is correct can be counted on a single hand – Eddy is so surprised at this that he doesn't have an immediate response, an anomaly for him indeed. His lips fall into a flat line and he pats Double D's shoulder. He says, "Man, I'm sorry. But don't worry, okay? Ed and me got your back."

"That should be, 'Ed and I have your back,'" corrects Double D.

"See, you're already feeling better," Eddy asserts, and claps Double D on the back, "Now let's order us some pizza, huh?"

It occurs to Double D that his mother heard all of this – she knows about Kevin, now. But when the doorbell rings and all three of them rush downstairs to collect the pizza, she doesn't say anything. She watches them over her mug of tea without a single comment, not even to tell them to quiet down or be neat.

They eat pizza and guzzle down sodas in front of Frankenweenie (Ed's choice of movie). Sometimes for whole handfuls of minutes, Double D forgets the awful feeling in his gut, though when he realizes he hasn't thought of Kevin for a whole five minutes or so, the nausea comes crashing back over him. But each time this happens, Ed notices. He stops munching and wraps his arm around Double D's shoulder, pulling him in for a tight, reassuring hug.

Double D is miserable. He feels manipulated and used, and twisted up. He feels like there's nothing left but a wasteland inside him.

But he isn't hopeless – he has his friends, and for now, that will keep him going.

**xxx**

When Kevin watches Edd slip into his house, he feels even worse than before. He didn't expect to feel that, but he guesses he didn't expect a lot of things. He expected anger from Edd. He expected to be shouted at, or even punched or something. But instead, Double D was just – cold. He barely said a word. In an instant, he went back to being the Double D he remembers from their previous years in high school. Quiet, cutting and succinct. No feeling – and that troubles Kevin, because he knows how keenly Edd feels things. He didn't used to know that, but he does now. And he knows that Edd doesn't talk about them, except sometimes he talked to Kevin.

Now that might never happen again.

And that makes Kevin's gut wrench with an ill, guilty feeling.

This wasn't how this was supposed to feel. He was supposed to feel a burden lifted from his shoulders. Instead, he feels the weight on his shoulders increased tenfold, so heavy he might suffocate under the force of it.

When his dad comes home that night, he asks, "Where's your boyfriend at?"

Kevin feels the question like an axe to the chest. He lies, "He promised to hang with his friends this weekend."

His dad eyes him but doesn't interrogate any further. He instead retreats to the fridge to collect a couple of beers, and joins Kevin on the couch, where he's watching cartoons and feeling like the scum of the earth. Kevin considers texting Nazz and getting her to hang out with him, but then wonders what she'll think of all this shit – and decides to spend the night alone.

By the time that he's tired enough to head up to his room, he's too pissed off at himself to masturbate or look at porn or anything. Especially when he sees the Yogi Berra baseball displayed proudly on the shelf above his window, Kevin feels like shit. God, what is with him? It's just a dude. Just like his ex-girlfriends were just girls. But none of his exes ever made him feel like this after it was over, even the ones that dumped him.

None of his previous relationships prompted him to read a thousand page book, either. Which he has. And he's already started on the next in the series.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Kevin sleeps poorly that night, tossing and turning in his bed, and waking up in a sweat at two in the morning before falling back into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep.

Saturday progresses in the same manner. Kevin feels sick and mad, so he cracks open a beer to wash the feelings down. And another. And another – and on and on until his stomach hurts and feels like it's about to leap out of his mouth.

His dad comes home from the grocery store to find Kevin with his head in the toilet.

"What in the fresh fuckin' hell are you doing getting drunk by yourself?" he demands, "It's goddamn two in the afternoon on a Saturday, Kevin."

"It's five somewhere," Kevin says into the toilet.

"Don't give me that shit. What is going on with you, kiddo?" he folds his arms in finality.

Kevin admits, "Broke up with Edd."

"You did what? You're over the moon for that kid, stupid," his dad says back, "And you're a mess now."

"I can get back with him after graduation," Kevin justifies, "But all the guys found out about us and I couldn't do it, Dad. I couldn't handle it."

"Are you kidding me?" his dad shoots back, and pauses for a second as though he's waiting for Kevin to laugh and say _just kidding_, and for Double D to pop out from behind the shower curtain. When none of that happens, Kevin's dad just lets out a long, weary sigh and says, "I'm not gonna lecture you, Kevin. But if you spend your whole life making choices based on the opinions of others, it's not gonna end good."

Double D would have corrected his dad's grammar.

That's the last thought that occurs to Kevin before his dad leaves, and he barfs again, into the toilet bowl.

By the time that Monday rolls around, Kevin is just as conflicted, if not more conflicted, than he was last week. He wonders how it's possible, especially since he made a choice. He should stick with it. He really should. But when he rolls past Edd on their way to school, his heart lurches and he wants nothing more than to take everything back.

Benny approaches him as he chains his bike to the rack outside the front door. At first, Kevin thinks that he's going to get another fist to the face, but instead Benny claps him on the shoulder and says, "Hey man, heard you dumped the science fag. Good for you. I knew you weren't like that."

"Uh, thanks," Kevin says, but he doesn't feel like any of those words are a compliment. Which is weird, because he used to. At one time, he would have been relieved to hear the same thing. But no, now his stomach boils and churns and his face heats, and he wants nothing more than to find Nazz so that he can complain about this clown behind his back.

Only, when Kevin finds Nazz doing her mascara at her locker, she whips around and glares at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Kevin?"

No _hey, Kev, _or _where were you this weekend_?

"What?" he says, "What are you talking about?"

"What else would I be talking about, you dumb fucker?" she snips, "Double D? You know, that guy that you couldn't stop talking about or hanging out with or fucking – until Friday, I guess. I can't believe you."

"Nazz, dude," Kevin protests, "You gotta understand. I needed to do it. I don't want to remember high school as this hellhole, you know? I don't like being called names or treated like I'm a second-class citizen."

Nazz puts a hand on one hip and cocks a brow.

"Oh you don't, huh?" Nazz says, "I wonder how Double D feels after you treated him the same exact way."

"I did not," Kevin says.

"Really? Then what did you do, exactly?" Nazz asks him. She turns back to her locker and pulls out a book, examining her appearance for a moment in the mirror she has hung inside. She closes her locker, and doesn't bother saying goodbye to Kevin. She just turns on her heel and heads off down the hallway.

Kevin strides after her and says, "Nazz, come on."

"Come on, what?" she says, and stops. Her pretty face is contorted in anger, a kind of fury that he's never seen from her before. She's typically so chill, so calm about everything that life throws her way, but not now. She stabs a finger in his chest and says, "You know what, Kevin? I hung out with you because you were cool. Even though you were kind of obsessed with what other people thought, I knew you were a good dude and I liked spending time with you. But I was wrong. I can't believe how wrong I was. I thought that when it came down to it, you stuck up for what mattered to you. But you don't. You're selfish. Your fucking _image_ matters to you more than your real friends. You want to be buddies with Benny and those guys? Fine. But you're not going to be friends with me."

Nazz whirls around and tromps down the hall.

Kevin stands still. He crumples after a minute, and turns back to his locker, where the word _fag_ is still written in permanent marker. It's a little too symbolic for his taste: Even though he's tried to put all this behind him, his identity hasn't changed. He hasn't stopped being attracted to guys, and he doubts he ever will.

Not even eight o'clock, and he already needs a drink. That has to be a new record.

When Kevin sits in his classes, he feels even more out of place than he did last week. Nobody's throwing anything or laughing at him, but nobody's talking to him, either. He feels like they all know, they all know who he is and what he likes and what he did. And they know that he managed to piss off the two kindest, most genuine people in Peach Creek – Edd and Nazz.

At lunch, he sits with Benny and the other football guys. They don't exactly welcome him back with open arms. Even Benny keeps him at an arm's length, and none of them include him in the conversation. They all talk about prom, discussing over Kevin's head what girls they're planning on taking and whether or not they think they can get laid. Why do they care so much about that? Kevin wonders. He likes sex as much as the next guy, but shouldn't the actual chick matter to them?

Across the cafeteria, Nazz sits with the Eds. Double D is hunched over his metal lunchbox, but Nazz nudges him and says something that gets him to smile. A stab of jealousy impales him – Kevin is the one that's the best at getting Edd to smile. Or was.

At that exact moment, Edd's eyes shift up and connect with his from across the room. Kevin's heart starts to pump so hard that he can feel his heartbeat in his teeth.

…But Double D just looks away, and returns to his lunch.

It's more of a blow than he wants it to be.

Kevin almost feels too sick to go to the rest of his classes that day, but knows he needs to if he wants to graduate. He goes through them like a ghost, drifting to his desk and out of it. Seeing his teachers but not hearing what they're saying. He has only Edd and Nazz and this whole mess on his mind.

Kevin doesn't say he's sorry for many things, but he wonders if this is one of those times in which he might have to.

At the end of the day, Kevin unlocks his bike and, too sad to go for a ride, walks it along the sidewalk. He spots Double D ahead of him and thinks about running to catch up to him –

But then, maybe that's not a good idea.

"Hey, assclown."

Kevin turns around and sees Ed and Eddy. He rolls his eyes, "What do you fuckers want?"

"You hurt Double D," Ed says.

Eddy tacks on, "Yeah, and you mess with one Ed, then you mess with all of us. You hear that, Kev?"

"What are you talking about?" Kevin says, and waves them off, "Run along and play, now. I don't have time for your bullshit."

"No, you're bullshit!" Ed shouts, and with a shout like a battle cry, he launches himself at Kevin. His fist connects with Kevin's face, and before Kevin can react, he has him by the collar, lifting him off the ground. He actually _growls_ and says, "No one hurts Double D. He's nice and you're mean and we hate you."

Eddy pitches in, "That's goddamn right. Sic him, Ed."

Ed shoves Kevin back on the ground. His head cracks against the concrete and the wind rushes from his lungs. He can't breathe, and gasps when Ed sits on his stomach and throws another punch. And another. And another. Every time his knuckles meet Kevin's face, he yells, "You suck!"

_You suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck._

It feels like a century before Ed climbs off of Kevin, and spits on him where he lies on the sidewalk.

"This is what you get," Eddy says, "You better not come near Double D again." And Eddy delivers a final kick to Kevin's side.

Ed and Eddy walk off and leave Kevin there, lying on the sidewalk next to his bike, bleeding and in pain.

Kevin struggles for air, but before he can think, his eyes roll back into his head, and the world disappears from around him.

**xxx**

**I'm kind of sorry but also not really sorry because ANGST. Thank you all again for reading!**


	15. Just A Matter of Trust

**Chapter Track: Hurt You – The Sounds**

When Kevin comes to, his head is pounding. Everything hurts: his jaw, his nose, his sides – and more importantly, his heart.

How did he get himself into this mess?

"Kev?" he hears, and feels a hand on his shoulder, "You awake?"

Kevin dares to open his eyes, and sees his own bedroom surrounding him, with Nazz in it. He blinks a few times to orient himself, and sits up. He groans and runs a hand through his hair before saying, "I thought you were mad at me."

"I am," Nazz says, "I'm furious. But I wasn't going to leave you KO'd on the sidewalk because I'm pissed off beyond belief at you. You're still my best friend, I guess. Besides, it seems I'm not the only one as mad as I am."

"Yeah," Kevin says, "The Eds."

"Double D included?" Nazz looks disbelieving.

Kevin shakes his head and replies, "No, the other two. The annoying two."

"I'm not saying you deserved it, but –"

"I deserved it," Kevin agrees, "How the fuck did you get me here, anyway? I'm like twice your size."

"When I saw you, I called your dad," she explains, "He helped get you in my car and we took you back here. He's downstairs now, do you want me to get him?"

"No," Kevin quickly says. He's embarrassed enough as it is, but to have his dad know the gritty details of what he's done and what's happened to him would be humiliating on a level that he doesn't think he can take right now. He's too emotionally used up, and his dad's the only one that hasn't rejected him outright for what he's done, besides Benny and the guys. And he doesn't even know if he likes Benny and the guys all that much anymore, in any case.

"Okay," Nazz says, and stands up, "Well, I've gotta go. But I'll tell him you're up and you want to be alone."

"Wait, Nazz," Kevin says, when she starts walking toward his bedroom door.

Nazz turns and cocks her head, "What, Kevin?"

"I need to fix this," he says lamely.

"I'll say," Nazz responds.

"No, I mean. How do I fix this?" Kevin asks.

"I dunno, dude. You dug your own grave, here. It's up to you to get out of it," she says, "If there's anyone that knows Double D well, it's you, not me. So you figure it out. I'll see you around."

When Nazz leaves, the air feels a little colder. It's no wonder – Kevin's been left with no boyfriend, no best friend, a disappointed parent and a beating of a lifetime. For a long while, all he can do is sit in his bed and think about how shitty he feels, but eventually he gets up and pads across the hallway to examine the damage in the mirror.

Both of his eyes are black, his lip is split, his side his bruised – he's a wreck. He shakes his head and sighs. Maybe what he needs is a hot shower to clear his head, to give him some time to think. So Kevin strips down – tossing his blood-stained t-shirt and ripped jeans into the laundry hamper, and starts the water up. He sets it to scalding, something to turn his skin pink and keep him alert.

The heat feels good against his sore skin.

The last time anything hurt this much was his tattoo.

Oh, God, the tattoo. The one that he got for Edd because he was drunk and stupid with love.

Fuck.

_FUCK._

Is that why this feels so bad? Is that why he'd love nothing better than to curl up and die, because he had the fucking idiocy to go and _fall in love_? How could he do that to himself – hell, how could he do what he did to Edd? How could any of this have happened the way it did?

Shit, he's so fucking stupid. He should have known all along. Edd. His _sun-and-stars. _Like Daenerys calls Khal Drogo.

When Kevin shuts the water off, a new determination has filled him, to fix what he's fucked up, to set things straight. He's going to apologize to Edd. He's going to tell him that he's sorry and that he loves him and that he was stupid to handle things the way that he did.

Kevin towels dry and redresses in a fresh t-shirt and tight jeans. He throws a button-up over it all, in an effort to look a little like he tried to look nice. And maybe he should bring something to say he's sorry? A gift, maybe? They have some weeds in their front yard that look kind of pretty, and Edd likes plants. Yeah, that's what he'll do.

Kevin announces that he has to be somewhere to his dad and throws on his work boots at the front door. In his lawn, there are dandelions and these little white flowers that he thinks might be weeds, too. He picks some of both, and jogs across the cul-de-sac, where he knocks on Double D's front door.

_Please let me in_, he silently begs, but the person that opens the door isn't Double D. It's a dark-haired, middle-aged woman in a snappy pantsuit. She must be…Edd's mom? Man, that's weird, Kevin didn't think he would ever meet this lady.

"Uh," he says, "Hi, ma'am. I was wondering if I could see Double – I mean, Eddward?"

Edd's mom eyes him for a moment, her lips pursed. Finally, after a moment, she says, "You may, but you must leave those nasty weeds out here. I won't have them in my house."

"Oh," Kevin says, "Okay." Yeah, he probably should have known that wouldn't be okay. So, he trudges to the edge of the curb, where the trashcans are already out for the garbage guys to pick them up tomorrow, and throws away the weeds he picked for Edd, feeling even stupider than before. He wipes his earthy-smelling hands on the sides of his jeans, and when he walks back up onto Double D's porch, his mom lets Kevin inside.

As usual, Kevin removes his shoes at the door before he starts up the stairs.

Jesus, he hasn't even really thought of what he's going to say. But he lets himself into Edd's bedroom anyway, hoping that whatever he spits out will be the right thing.

Edd is at his laptop, taking notes on a legal pad beside him. When Kevin comes in, he glances up sharply from his work and says only, "Oh." Double D surveys Kevin, looking at his damaged face to his wrinkled button-up to his sweaty palms and remarks, "Please tell me that it wasn't my friends that did this to you."

Kevin coughs, "Uh. It was. That's okay. I deserved it."

Double D doesn't say anything to this. He just stares. Kevin takes this as an opportunity to launch into his speech, unplanned as it is, "Look, dork. I mean – Double D. Er, Edd. Edd, I messed up real bad, okay? I shouldn't have done what I did and I brought you flowers – or weeds, actually? – but your mom wouldn't let me take them in the house, so um…anyway. The point is that I'm sorry, baby, I'm really, really sorry. And I love you. Please – yeah."

Edd continues to stare. He closes his laptop quietly and at last says, "It was decent of you to come and apologize."

"Great, cool," Kevin says, "Does this mean I'm forgiven? We can go back, right?" He hopes he sounds desperate, but he knows he does.

Kevin still can't believe he did this. Months ago, he was just fine. He was single, he was closeted, he was a celebrated athlete – and that's all gone away and wound down to this guy, this one guy. It feels like everything balances on what Double D says next, and Kevin is simultaneously excited and afraid to hear it.

"No," Edd says with finality.

"What do you mean?" Kevin asks.

"I do appreciate the sentiment," Edd goes on and stands, "But I believe you were right, it's better that our relationship has come to a close. You manipulated me, Kevin. You used me and you lead me along, and the fact that you expect me to forgive you and will allow you to continue to do so baffles me. I lost myself when I started to spend time with you. I became a person I disliked because I allowed you to make me into that person. I have come to the conclusion that the termination of our relationship is one of the best things to happen before I start my college career. I need all of my focus to be on my studies, and not on boys that mistreat me."

Kevin feels as though he's been hit in the chest with a cannonball. He waits for Double D to laugh and says that he's joking, but he doesn't.

What Edd does say next, however, is worse, "Oh, I nearly forgot. I took your baseball jersey to the dry cleaner's and have it here for you." Double D pulls down the box from his closet, the one labeled _Kevin_ and hands it to him. He goes on, "I've placed your things in this box. Would you like me to take down Winston? You did spend money on him, and though he's a fine specimen of a bat, I would prefer to return it to you."

"No," Kevin says, holding the shoebox with his name on it, feeling stupid and helpless and angry and upset, "Fuck no, don't give the bat back to me. He's yours."

That's all that he can manage. He has to leave here. His heart feels like it's ripped itself out of his chest and stomped on. An abrupt cold feeling rushes over him like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. And it occurs to him.

Double D isn't going to forgive him. He's talking to Kevin like they're strangers now. Like they didn't kiss and laugh together, like they didn't exchange Valentine's Day gifts, like Double D never wrote a song just about Kevin, and like Kevin never got a tattoo just for Double D. This thing – this miraculous thing that started as an experiment and ended with Kevin falling horribly, deeply in love is over.

_Over. _

"All right," Edd says. The frown he used to always wear is back, but it feels like it's directed at Kevin, and that just makes him feel ten times worse, and it keeps going downhill as Edd adds, "Please, I need to finish these notes. I've had enough of you, thank you very much."

Kevin thinks of how he might snap back with a retort, but he's too stunned to think of anything. Instead, he dumbly nods and finds his feet walking him out of Double D's bedroom and down the stairs without any say on his part. With shoebox in hand, he shoves his boots back on his feet, slips out the front door, and starts walking across the street.

He can't breathe. He can't think. He needs be inside his house, right now. He needs to be someplace where he can be alone, where no one can see him, where no one can talk to him, so he can lock himself up like his stupid self deserves.

Kevin slams the front door to his house behind him and ignores his dad's call asking how it went with Double D. He runs up the stairs, because he can't draw this out anymore. He feels his eyes watering and his throat clogging. He knows what this is. This is going to be him crying, and Kevin does not cry. He hasn't cried for years. He didn't even cry when his mom left them. He just doesn't cry, okay? It's the most awful fucking feeling in the world, knowing you need to cry but holding it in as you fumble with your bedroom door, trying to get it open when it won't oblige.

Kevin slams his door behind him. He stumbles over his own feet and sits down on his bed.

For a long minute, he just stares at the shoebox on his lap before he pulls the lid off of it. Inside are a few less-significant things: a half-used bottle of lube, and the box of condoms, with only two left inside. But underneath those, sits his jersey.

It's folded perfectly, not a crease to be seen. Kevin lifts it out of the box with ginger fingers to breathe in its scent. It doesn't even smell like Edd – just the dry cleaner's.

Just a couple weeks ago he held Edd while he was wearing this jersey. Kevin remembers that when he kissed the back of Edd's neck, the jersey didn't smell like Kevin anymore, it smelled like Double D. It made his heart leap into his throat and this tender feeling overtook him.

A feeling he now recognizes was stupid, stupid love.

With the jersey pressed against his face, Kevin starts to cry.

**xxx**

Kevin looks like a wreck in the mirror the next morning. Worse than he did yesterday – though that's hardly surprising, considering the night that he had before. After he cried himself dry he drank himself to sleep, and woke up with most of a beer dried on his t-shirt. He reeks even after giving himself a rub down. He doesn't have time for a shower because he woke late, and foregoes brushing his teeth despite his rancid breath for the same reason.

When Kevin sees coffee still hot in its pot in the kitchen, he decides to pour some to-go in a thermos, just to give him enough of a boost to get through the day. He tucks it into the side pocket of his backpack and rushes out the door on his bike.

By the time that he arrives at Peach Creek High, the bell's already rung and the hallways are empty. He has to get a late pass from the office, but has to wait behind a straggling group of smokers, and one small freshman that looks like he might cry if somebody says _boo. _

A yellow poster advertising prom in bright glitter glue letters sits directly behind the front desk. Kevin stares as the secretary writes out his late pass. He'd forgotten about prom in all the fuckery that's happened lately. Even when he and Edd were _boyfriends_ he just figured he'd go solo or take a decoy chick.

But…

Now…he's picturing himself all dressed up, tux and all, and Double D beside him.

Jesus.

He wants that so badly. He wants to dress up with Double D and dance with him. Fuck Benny and those guys, and fuck what anybody else has to say about it. His chest hurts more than any sport injury that he has ever gotten, and it's because he wants, more than anything that he's wanted on the face of this fucking earth, to take Double D to senior prom.

"Kid, you okay?"

Kevin snaps out of it and looks at the secretary, who lifts a single, penciled-in eyebrow. He supplies, "I'm fine," and takes the pink pass that she hands him from across the desk. The secretary doesn't look like she believes him, and who would believe a kid with two black eyes that reeks of beer? Kevin doesn't believe himself.

He takes his time walking to his first class. When he arrives, he hands the late pass over to his teacher, and promptly puts his head on his desk.

"Kevin, you okay?"

Kevin turns his head when Rolf pokes him with a pencil.

"Fine, dude."

"The Ed-boys gave you a beating, eh?" he goes on.

"Yup," answers Kevin, and he puts his head back on his desk.

"You know, my grandfather makes a great cure for the black eyes with –"

Kevin turns around, "Rolf, shut the hell up."

Rolf frowns and slumps in his seat. Kevin feels a little guilty for making him feel bad, but he's pretty sure that no one feels worse than he does right now, so he doesn't exactly care.

Class ends with a ring of the bell – a ring that jolts Kevin out of a sweaty, nightmarish nap on top of his desk. His notebook is soaked in his spit and his head pounds with pain. But at least his teacher seems to take pity on him, foregoing a lecture on sleeping in class and instead telling him to feel better as he slogs out of the classroom and into the crowded hall.

There, he sees Edd, of course.

Double D looks good. Sure, his frown is on his face, but the way that his Periodic Table of Elements t-shirt shifts against him instantly makes Kevin think of how nice he looks underneath it. And when Edd bends over to collect a book from low in his locker, Kevin admires the hint of his briefs and the strip of pale skin above them.

"Miss him, eh?"

Rolf again.

"Yeah," Kevin sighs, "A lot."

And then it occurs to him: he doesn't want to have to live without Edd in his life. He'd actually do anything to keep him in it. He would fucking stand outside Edd's bedroom window with a damn boombox in his arms, playing _In Your Eyes _by Peter Gabriel at top volume. He would recite poetry while standing on top of a desk. He would run through the halls in nothing but a banana sling screaming declarations of love in the face of every passing student.

But he really doesn't think that Edd would like any of those things.

Kevin needs to brainstorm.

With renewed vigor, he heads to his next class. There, he opens his notebook when he sits and instead of doodling poorly-drawn cartoon dogs and geometric patterns, he writes down things that he thinks he could do to win back Double D.

_Flowers._

No, they'd have to be something special, like a rare botanical sample or something.

_Poetry._

Double D already has like ten million books on poetry.

Damn it.

This isn't going as well as he wanted it to.

He has a million scribbled out ideas on his page, and nothing that would actually work. His brain is clogged up – he can't think of anything and it's frustrating. With a grunt, he crumples up the page in his notebook and starts with new ideas on a clean one.

But nothing comes to him…and it occurs to Kevin.

This might call for outside help.

**xxx**

**Hey all, thanks for reading! I wanted to take a second to talk seriously – please don't send me threatening messages/reviews to update. I write fanfic for fun, and it's not fun when I get angry messages because I don't update within a handful of days. I appreciate all of the readers that haven't done this, thank you for being considerate.**


	16. I Love You So

**Chapter Track: Breezeblocks – Alt-J**

Kevin didn't think that he would ever live to witness a day when he needed to ask Eddy for help: He has to swallow all of his dignity just to make it up the steps of Eddy's front porch. Outside the front door, he takes a deep breath to steel himself, but before he knocks, his nerves overtake him again. It takes a full five minutes for Kevin to straighten his baseball cap on his head, shove his pride deep down past the pit of his stomach, and ring the doorbell.

Eddy answers with a joint halfway out of his mouth. The skunky smell of marijuana surrounds him. Though his eyes are pink, the sleepy smile slips right from his face when he sees Kevin on the stoop. Eddy frowns and asks, "What the fuck do you want?"

Kevin, having used his what remained of his calmness to climb the steps and ring the doorbell, irritably answers, "I need your help, asshole."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Eddy says, and rolls his eyes. He makes to close his front door, but Kevin's foot launches out, and he manages to shove it open and climb into the entry way.

Eddy snaps, "Look, dickhead, I'm gonna call the cops if you don't get off of my property, are we clear?"

"Come on, man, this is about Double D," insists Kevin.

Eddy studies him and, after an exhale of acrid smoke, says, "Go on."

"Look, I fucked up," Kevin says.

"I'll say," Eddy interrupts.

"Will you shut the fuck up for a second?" Kevin snips, "Dude, would I be coming to you if I weren't desperate? I…I love him, dude. I should have figured it out earlier but I fucked up instead. He doesn't believe me, doesn't believe that I love him. I tried to convince him, but he wouldn't listen, you know? I just don't know what to do. You're one of his best friends. Do you know –what should I do? How am I supposed to get him back?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Eddy says, "But if you love him, shouldn't you know what he likes?"

"I do know," Kevin insists, "He – he likes new specimens, and insects, and books, and tea. He likes Game of Thrones but he liked the book series way before anybody was even thinking of making the HBO series. He loves astronomy but wants to go into medicine, and he wishes he had enough money for his own 3-D printer, but I'm pretty sure if he tried that he could make his own."

At this, Eddy blinks. He stubs out the end of his joint in the ashtray on the antique set of drawers decorating the entryway. It's some vintage thing, with a ceramic woman curled around the tray in painted-on lingerie. When he looks back at Kevin, he rubs the back of his neck and says, "Look, man. It sounds like you already got the pieces, just not the plan. But like? I always figured with shit like this, you need a grand gesture."

"A grand gesture?" echoes Kevin.

"Yeah, like movie shit," he says, "That's all I got. Now will you get out of my damn house?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kevin says. Eddy herds him back out onto the porch, but Kevin forces the door open just a little before it's closed all the way. He adds, "Thanks."

Eddy lifts a brow but responds, "It's whatever," before he slams his front door closed an inch away from Kevin's nose.

God, this whole thing is gonna take a lot of begging. But he'll do it. Kevin'll fucking do it, because at this juncture, he'd do anything to get Edd back. He didn't know that this would happen. He didn't know that an impulsive decision would lead to falling in love. But it did, and there is nothing in the world he wouldn't do to keep that love. He never feels better than when he's with Edd. Double D made him feel so many things – wanted and loved, but more than that, Double D made Kevin feel intelligent and worthwhile.

It's been a long time since somebody made him feel that way about himself.

Sure, Kevin puts on a good front. And putting others down assured him for years that he was just as good as he thought he was, that others were beneath him, and that he could prove it by hurting them. That was wrong, and he was wrong. He's pretty sure nobody hated themselves more than he used to hate himself – but Edd changed it, Edd changed it all, and Kevin fucked everything up.

He's not going to let that fly.

Kevin turns away from Eddy's house and heads down the sidewalk. He nearly slams into Johnny in his haste.

"Hey!" is all that Johnny gets out.

God, Johnny was always one of the kids Kevin was a dick to. Not anymore. Kevin takes Johnny by the shoulders and says, "Dude. I am so sorry for the shit I've put you through."

Johnny just stares, and then shrugs. He says, "That's okay, Kevin. Is this about Double D?"

"Sort of," Kevin admits, "But I'm serious. I'm sorry. I'm not gonna do any of that shit anymore." He releases Johnny, and before either of them can say any more, Kevin jogs away toward Nazz's house.

Another person to apologize to, and to beg help from. That's okay. Kevin used to put a lot of stock in his own pride, but that pride was misplaced. He knows that now. If there's something he should be proud of, it's how far he's come since the beginning of the school year. He's learned so much – not purely academic, but about himself. And the great majority of this knowledge he owes to Double D.

Kevin rings Nazz's doorbell several times in quick succession until she answers. When she does, he doesn't let her get a single word in edgewise before he blurts, "Look, I'm really sorry. I messed up bad. And I need your help."

Nazz blows a bubble of pink gum and pops it before she replies, "That's what I like to hear, Kev. What do you need?"

"A ride to that weird store we went to on Valentine's Day," Kevin says breathlessly.

"You got it, man."

**xxx**

Kevin has everything packed into his backpack in preparation, and he's rehearsed what he plans to say over and over. He spent all last night talking to himself in the mirror until he was hoarse. He still doesn't think he has everything exactly right, but he's not as eloquent as Double D and they both know that.

As though this were a regular day, Kevin swaps out the books he needs at his locker and walks toward his first class of the day. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Edd at his locker and stands still for a little, just watching him. He wishes he'd told Double D how handsome he is more than he did. Something about his tall, skinny body just _appeals_ to Kevin. And at this point, even the way that Edd irons his cotton t-shirts makes him feel a burst of affection.

"Still pining after the science-fag?" sneers Benny as he passes, having caught Kevin with his eyes glued to Edd's back.

"You caught me," Kevin says and holds up his hands, "Don't know why it's such a big deal to you where I put my cock, though."

At this, Benny scowls. He looks like he wants to say something but can't come up with anything clever, and just replies, "Fuck you, faggot."

At Benny's retreating back, Kevin calls, "You can fuck me anytime! All you had to do was ask!"

Man, fuck that guy. Kevin can't believe that he ever considered him a friend.

Real friends aren't like that. Real friends stick with you regardless of your identity. They encourage you to be true to yourself, to love yourself – that's never what Benny was. It's what Nazz is, and definitely what Double D has always been.

And you know what?

It's really liberating being himself.

In class, Kevin is antsy. He taps his foot on the ground and watches the clock – his teacher scolds him for being distracted, even though their work is light, end-of-high school busywork that isn't terribly important. He knows he needs to wait for the perfect time, but the key word in that is the _waiting_ part.

All he has to do is get himself to lunchtime.

The seconds tick by at a painful pace, but they eventually make themselves into minutes. Minutes and minutes and minutes of waiting, until it's been hours.

And then it comes. The dismissal bell for lunch.

Kevin's gonna do it. This is it. This is his grand gesture. His movie moment.

He unloads the goods from his backpack and hangs the empty bag in his locker. He waits at the edge of the cafeteria, just out of sight behind a brick column, as Double D enters with his Bill Nye lunchbox and seats himself at one of the tables beside Ed, who already sits with a tray piled high with cafeteria food.

Kevin catches Nazz's eye as he turns the corner. She gives him a thumbs up and a smile and Kevin smiles back. His heart pounds and his brain buzzes. He's gonna get Edd back. He's gonna do it.

Kevin walks straight toward Ed and Double D. At first, Edd doesn't notice him, and nibbles at his sandwich (turkey and hummus on whole wheat, Kevin knows it from here), but when Kevin is only a couple paces away, he lifts his head, and they make eye contact. Kevin smiles at Double D – Double D doesn't smile back, and instead glances around as though Kevin means to approach somebody else.

Nope.

Kevin climbs up onto Double D's table and announces at the top his lungs.

"I LOVE YOU."

Double D goes a little pale. People are staring, and Edd tends to be invisible – being the center of attention is not Edd's forte. Fortunately for the both of them, it _is_ Kevin's.

"Did you all fuckin' hear that, dorks?" he yells at the gathering crowd of students, "I love Double D! I love everything about him. I love when I get him to smile. I love when I ask a question and he gets excited about explaining it to me. I love his big ears and his big nose and his brown eyes and his skinny legs. I love how his eyes light up when he talks about the things he loves. I love the books he loans me. I love the way he tastes when I kiss him. Yeah, kiss him. You know what else I fucking love? I love when we have sex, because it feels fucking right with him. Oh, and? I got a fucking tattoo for him. You heard me. My new tattoo is for Double D, and always has been. 'Cause he's my sun-and-stars, and I want everybody to know."

Kevin takes a deep breath and turns back to look at Double D, "I love you, dork. You changed the way I saw the world. You made me a better person. You helped make me myself. I fucked up real bad when I broke things off. I used to care so much about what other people thought about me, but I don't give a shit anymore. People can be judgmental pricks sometimes, but I learned something, okay? You taught me that the people that are worthwhile aren't going to do that. They won't judge you. They love you no matter what. "

Double D's entire face is red, but his eyes soften at Kevin's rambling speech.

"Kevin," he says gently.

"Before you say anything," Kevin interrupts, "I brought you something. It's uh – a calf's brain in a jar. And two tickets to prom next weekend. I'm hoping that you'll forgive me for being as stupid as I was and go with me. I just want to dance with you."

Kevin stoops down on the table and scoots the brain in a jar over to Edd. He says softly, and watches the students crowded around them lean in to hear better, "I understand if you don't want to forgive me. But I wanted to show you that every fucking word coming out of my mouth was the truth. And that I'm not afraid of it anymore."

Double D's throat bobs as he swallows. He takes the jar into his hands and turns it from side to side. He replies, "This is a lovely specimen, Kevin."

Kevin's heart about stops. Is that it?

"A lovely specimen…from a truly lovely human being," he nods. His voice catches on the words.

For an instant, Kevin thinks that Double D is going to cry, but instead, he stands, and climbs onto the table with Kevin. He pulls Kevin up by the collar of his t-shirt and says, "Of course I'll go with you to prom," and covers Kevin's mouth with his own.

Kevin wraps his arms around Edd and hauls their bodies close together. He hears Nazz whoop behind them and start clapping. Ed joins her immediately from below them, and suddenly the cafeteria bursts into standing ovation – there are cheers and laughs and clapping, and if anybody has an issue, it's drowned out by all the people that don't. All the good people.

When they pull apart, a wide grin spreads across Double D's face from ear to ear, revealing his slightly crooked teeth that are brushed to white.

"I love you too," Double D says.

**xxx**

On prom night, Kevin spares no expense: He buys the both of them matching boutonnieres in Edd's favorite shade of red, and rents a limousine to take them to the venue, the sports stadium just outside of downtown Peach Creek, where the student government managed to secure a penthouse space to hold the event for the night.

Kevin's dad takes pictures of them in the front yard: Kevin pinning Edd's boutonniere to his tux, Double D doing the same with his, arm in arm, hand in hand, silly pictures, and when his dad prompts, "C'mon, kiss. Don't think I don't know what you boys get up to," Kevin laughs and covers Edd's mouth with his own.

Halfway through the shoot, Edd excuses himself to use the restroom before their venture to dinner. When the door closes behind him, his dad saunters over to Kevin and claps him on the shoulder. He says gruffly, "I knew you'd get shit sorted out."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad," Kevin says, and hugs his father.

"I'm real proud, kiddo," his dad says, and hugs him back.

Nazz joins them a little after Double D emerges back outside from the house, looking very much herself in black lipstick and a bright green, above-the-knee dress covered in sequins and glitter. She jumps in for a few more pictures before the rest of their crew arrives: The other Eds, with three Kanker sisters in tow.

Kevin wishes he was surprised when Marie leaps through his lawn to throw her arms around Nazz and kiss her square on the mouth, black lipstick aside.

It's a sweet moment, a good one. Kevin never would have expected to be taking prom photos with the Eds and the Kanker sisters, but you know what? He's grown up. This is right where he belongs, with the guy he's stupidly in love with and that guy's best friends – and his own best friend, a crazy chick that loves him no matter what.

He's right at home.

After another few rounds of photographs, they all load into the limousine. It takes them to dinner, a fancy steakhouse-type restaurant whose menu Kevin was sure to show Double D for approval before they settled on it. He orders himself a rack of ribs, and submits when Edd tucks a napkin into the collar of his dress shirt, so that Kevin doesn't ruin his rented tux.

"Be diligent, in any case," Edd advises.

"Yes, mom," Kevin replies, and Double D elbows him.

Kevin and Eddy argue over which one of them will pay the bill – in the end, they both win and split the cost down the middle. Eddy pouts and Kevin laughs it off. It's the start to a brilliant night.

The theme for this year's prom is _A Night in New York_, which consists mainly of wooden flats painted to look like skyscrapers surrounding the dance floor. Street lights are scattered throughout the venue, lit dimly, and on the walls are projected images of park benches and tall buildings.

"They did a magnificent job on the setting," observes Double D, as one of the volunteer prom staff members rips their tickets in two and allows them inside.

"I'll show you a magnificent job," Kevin murmurs against Edd's ear, "a blow job, that is."

"Kevin, we are in public," Double D murmurs back, but can beat down the smile on his lips.

Kevin and Double D dance to a few pop songs on the dance floor – the way that Edd grinds his body back against Kevin's leads him to believe that Edd is teasing him, but he can't quite be sure – Edd could either be utterly oblivious to what he's doing or know _exactly_ what he's doing, and it's impossible to decipher between the two as Edd's ass slides back along Kevin.

They break to get punch, and for a while Edd and Kevin just sit together on the outskirts of the fun, watching Ed twirl May around and catch her with one arm, both of them laughing wildly, or Johnny dancing by himself, like there isn't a single other soul in the room with him.

The music stops briefly for the announcement of prom king and queen – they're a couple that Kevin knows vaguely, very good-ol'-boy, white bread types, but sweet looking nonetheless as they take the dance floor for the first slow song.

"Hey," Kevin says, and nudges Double D, "We should go up there."

"We don't have to," Edd says, and chews a little on his lower lip.

Kevin rolls his eyes, "Dork. C'mon. I wanna dance with you."

"Okay," Edd consents.

Kevin laces his fingers in Edd's and pulls him toward the dance floor, where Etta James' _At Last_ surrounds them. He positions Edd's hands on his waist and loops his own arms up over Double D's neck, until they're so close that Kevin can smell Edd's cinnamon breath mints and feel the body heat underneath his tux.

They swing and sway along with the music. Double D is smiling, and it makes Kevin's chest pinch with feeling.

This is everything he pictured.

Kevin feels so full, so wonderful, dancing here with this guy. He feels complete in a way he can't describe – he wasn't missing anything before, he just found something extra that he never knew he needed. And he does need Double D. Double D reminds him to be sane, be thoughtful, and be himself.

Kevin leans up and their lips meet. It's tender, and perfect, and everything he never knew that he wanted.

It's love.

**xxx**

**Hey! Sorry for the late update, my work has been INSANE lately so I haven't had time to anything. This is the final chapter! There will be an epilogue (with smut, fyi) and then it's over! Thank you to all you guys for the support and love I've received. You are the best.**


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